Breaker
by Angel of Pandemonium
Summary: They are each other's storms, hell, natural disasters... turbulent and full of danger. No one ever said that love remotely easy... and who ever said that it's better to have loved and lost deserves to be shot. RATED M FOR A REASON, folks. Fanny/Patton with Rachel pulling some strings... maybe a bit of 1x362, 3x4, 2x5... ect.
1. The Nightmare of You

_**So, found this in the dredges of my archives- my handwritten archives to be exact…. And I thought that you lot might want to read it. This sucker's pretty old too, so I had to decipher some really bad handwriting of mine…. Hope you enjoy…. By the way, this is what I named it after:**_ _**a heavy sea wave that breaks into white foam on the shore or a shoal. I don't know why, but it fits. BY THE WAY, RATED M FOR A REASON, IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE STRONG LANGUAGE AND SMUT, DO NOT READ!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't Own Codename: Kids Next Door.**_

 **Breaker**

 _Chapter 1_

 _Her red hair was swinging from side to side as she strutted down the mars-base hallway with a swagger only matched by numbuh 60, who, at the moment, at his own domain at the North Pole Training/ Prison Base- the TND section. Or, so she thought… until the 17-year- old redhead was slammed up against her suddenly closed and locked office door._

 _He had her with her arms in his vise- like grip, his other hand, callused and rough made its way under her loos fitting sweater, lingering on the soft pampered skin of her belly, and moved its way up to her chest and snaked around to the catch of her bra. He undid the annoying bit of fabric with two fingers and drew it away… along with her sweater. He heard her gasp, and watched the goosebumps spread across her pallid skin as the cool air came into contact. Her brilliantly green eyes went half lidded._

 _She did not miss the predatory glint in his silver eyes, as his shaggy, blue- black head bent down to her chest, sucking the pale pink nipple in his mouth. He felt, rather than heard her groan, and he smirked. He'd never wanted her as much as he did now- and oh, dear God, he always wanted her. She was the only one. Had always been._

 _He'd never felt this hot before… this burning was tearing through him like one of Grandfather's fire balls. Her groaning and whimpering was getting to him… he didn't think that he could stop now. IF she asked him to, he would die… and she was burning for his touch._

" _P-Patton…" She gasped, squirming under his hand. He laughed in her ear._

" _Tell me what you want, Fan-Fan…" his whisper was rough, barely restrained lust in every word, making it darker…. His words had started slurring, and taking on a polish accent as he nipped at her ear. She moaned as he attacked her neck, biting and sucking._

" _No one else…. Had better touch you…." He snarled. He felt her quake in his arms, and knew that she was his. She was the only one that he could do this to… she was the only one who could take his near bruising caresses without wincing… and even when he did mark her ivory skin with the dark purple marks…_

 _She was putty in his hands, he could feel her melting for him… and he gloried in it as much as she did, he took her lips again as he…._

Woke up.

The nineteen year old TND officer, Patton Dimitri Drilovski gasped as he shot upright in bed like a bullet.

"Damn it… not this again…" he hissed out, muttering dark explicatives in Polish under his breath. "This is completely ridiculous." He muttered.

HE hated her. He didn't think of her in that way

(Lie)

He certantly didn't care if some other poor sap did, so forget the jealousy

(Blasphemy)

And he sure as hell didn't want to screw her… hell, he didn't want to be within a 50-mile radius of her, let alone touch her…

(So much of a complete and total lie that at this point the writer stops typing to snort and mutter "Denial is not just a river in Egypt…")

He ran a hand through his messy black hair. There was seriously no end to this. He hated her. He wouldn't shed a tear if she suddenly disappeared from exsistance.

' _Lies, Patton, complete downright lies…"_ A voice in his mind- one that sounded a bit too much like the redheaded viper- laughed _'Ye should ge' tha' checked out… ye need some help if ye're gonna keep lyin' to yerself.'_

He snarled in annoyance as he got up to take yet another cold as ice shower, and glared at the alarm clock on his bedside table as he walked out.

It read 2:00 am. He had gone to bed at 11:30. Today was going to be hell….

"Stupid redheaded Irish bitch…." He muttered resentfully.

* * *

She calmly walked out of her mars base office, where she was now not only the Global Tactics Officer, but the head of the TND recommissioning squad (as well as the 'police force' of the TND). She smirked as she walked down M-Base's docking station. Nothing, not even running into numbuh 60- the bane of her existence- could ruin her mood today.

She didn't care what he tried to throw at her today. She laughed as she climbed into her vehicle and left for the North Pole Prison Base.

….

 _She walked to the prison sector of the base- nearly gagging as she walked past the cell of their former 4th grade student prez, and his girlfriend/ former secretary._

 _Scratch not gagging, she was trying not to vomit. Why the hell they'd been put into the same cell was beyond her. "Note to self… ask numbuh 60 to put 'em in separate cells." She muttered to herself, swinging her long red hair behind her shoulder._

 _As she walked down the hall, she realized that one of the cells was open- oddly enough, the cell that usually held Mr. Boss… her father. As Mr. Boss was not scheduled for release until next month._

 _As much as she loved her father, she did not try to bend the rules and get him out early (not that he ever learned his lesson and stopped trying to destroy all of kid kind)…. Alarmed, she started toward it to check._

 _But when she entered the cell, it wasn't her father._

 _Patton Drilovski himself was seated on the cot; and it looked as if he'd been waiting for her. She ignored her heart's stuttering and approached. He looked up at her (for the first time in… forever, really. She was usually the one looking up at her), and that trademark smirk crept to his lips._

 _She took a small step back. That smirk put her on edge… and he knew it._

 _"Hullo, Fanny." His smirk grew wider as he took in her expression, her cat-like eyes narrowed slightly; down to her mouth, which was set in an almost childlike pout. She couldn't help the shiver that wracked through her body as his dark gaze lingered on her lips._

 _His eyes- formerly a shockingly silver grey, had darkened until they glittered like a polished onyx stone, yet the heat in those shining dark eyes had her backing up again._

 _"P-Patton, what're ye doing here?"_

 _A soft chuckle escaped his lips, as he stood up to approach the small Irish redhead._

 _"I'm in charge of this place. I go where I want, miłość(1)," he stated, arrogance loaded into his tone. He had gotten up and was now standing in front of her. Although he spoke in Polish, he did so with a fake Irish accent._

 _She tried to get out the door behind her, only to find her back hitting the closed door. 'How did that happen?' the wondered wildly._

 _Not that it mattered, because, in that moment, he had grabbed both of her forearms in his powerful hands and yanked her up against his rock hard body._

 _She tried- unsuccessfully to squirm away- to push him back, only to realize that it was about as helpful as trying to shove away a brick wall._

 _"P-Patton, Let me go." She snapped trying to not show fear… or worse by far, anticipation. He laughed._

 _Glittering black eyes turbulent with want, he loomed over her, and he lifted her chin up so that their eyes were matched, and his smirk lessened, his expression became more serious. "Do you really want me to, piękny(2)?" he whispered,_

 _"Dhia…(3)" she gasped, her voice breaking as she whispered, losing her grasp on English as his peppermint and chocolate breath wafted across her face. She fidgeted, still trying to keep a handle on her obvious reaction with an annoyed huff._

 _It was difficult to do… especially as his hands- rough with calluses- ran up and down her arms… and why that felt so good was a mystery to her._

 _His face was mere millimeters away from hers, and suddenly, her knees felt weak and shaky. With a small amount of relief, she realized that he was holding her up._

 _Only for a second, though, because then his lips touched hers, his teeth nipping at her lower lip- just a bit too hard, and she whimpered a bit because it hurt, then his tongue slipped out to sooth the sting… and then slipped past her lips when she gasped. He had taken full advantage and the whirlwind took her with all the fury of a hurricane or a blizzard. She whimpered, knees finally caving in._

 _She almost wished that she would collapse. No such luck… of course not. This was Patton. No, he fully supported her weight now, and picked her up as if she were his bride. But he never broke the kiss._

 _So, instead of trying to limply fall away, she wrapped her arms around his neck, buried them into his hair, and hung on for dear life_

…

Fanny woke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright on her bed. She hyperventilated for a bit until she got her breathing under control, and when she did, she fell back, and let out a long moan as her head hit the pillow.

" _What_ the _hell_ was that?" she groaned, throwing off her blanket. She shivered as the cold winter wind hit her body through the shorts and tank top she usually wore for pajamas. Ironically, the cold only made her condition worse…

…He was in the constant arctic chill for most of the year….

" _Go hIfreann leis seo(4)_ …" she growled, grabbing the blanket back and tucking it around her to ward off the cold. She just had to put it in the back of her mind… that was all…

She closed her eyes and tried to get some more sleep.

* * *

Mars Base- 0900 hours-

Rachel watched as her best friend walked into the office that she now sat in

The other girl looked exhausted. Her red hair in more of a disarray than usual, and her skin was two shades paler than normal. Rachel raised an eyebrow at her and sighed.

"Fan, you really need to get more sleep," she said as a greeting

The other girl snorted.

"Yeah, well it would help if I didn't keep having these weird- ass dreams…" she muttered.

Rachel's eyebrow raised even higher. "Uh, okay…."

The redhead just sent her a withering glare. "Don't ask, Rachel. Please don't ask." Rachel chuckled. She had a feeling that she knew what was going on. She also knew that Fanny would hate her in a few short seconds.

"Back to business, 86. I need you to get to the prison base. Numbuh 60 has yet to turn in a report that he said that he'd give me last week."

Fanny groaned. "Oh, come on, Rachel! Can't ye send someone else… like numbuh 35- who's actual job is to do things like that?"

Rachel sighed. "If only… look, as far as I know, he's already put numbuhs 35, 1701, and three others in for remedial training for 'bugging' him about it. You're the only one- besides me, really- that he cannot demote or put in extra training."

…

She stomped into the North Pole Prison Base- after landing on the New Siberian Island. Her temper swirling around her, warmer than any coat she could have brought (though, she was wearing one).

"Where is he?" she said it quietly. Her face was calm despite the black vortex that seemed to wrap around her

Pete and Peter Taylor both gulped. The 44 twins may have been used to the rages of both Numbuh 60 and the red haired teen in front of them, but that did not make it any less terrifying. Pete gulped and his twin whimpered. Both nearly felt sorry for their leader.

"He's in his office, sir." Peter muttered. She gave the twins a forced smile of gratitude.

"Thank ye two." She said it calmly, careful to not take her temper out on them as was a habit that she'd finally gotten rid of.

When she was in front of the office door, she tried to put her anger aside, to be professional and calm… but she'd never been good at doing so.

Neither was she the type to be nice about it… especially when she was running on maybe an hours' worth of sleep. She managed to nock.

NO answer. She hissed, and tried the door knob… and then knocked again. It was locked, and still, no one was answering, although she swore that she could hear his deep voice chuckling. Her eyes narrowed.

She tried to be nice…..

She'd really tried…

But if he thought that a locked door would detour her, he was sadly mistaken. She raised an eyebrow. He should've known that Rachel would eventually send her… She'd done so many times in the past (at the peril of many other operatives… these little visits had never ended well…).

Calmly, the redheaded operative took a different stance and controlled her breathing, took a deep breath, let it out slowly… and, putting all of her considerable will and sheer force into it, kicked the door so hard that the wood splintered and broke.

The door opened only to reveal not only numbuh 60, but numbuh 14 as well, who was in is arms in a kiss that belonged (in Fanny's opinion) in a scene of 'Majority Rules'- an almost porno soap opera.

"Hullo, numbuh 60, I'm sorry to interrupt the two of you… I did knock…. Obviously, ye didn't hear me, but really, if ye'd turn in yer reports on time- or at least hand them off to the other operatives tha' come and ask about it, then ye wouldn't have to deal with these nasty little visits."

Numbuh 14 shrieked as numbuh 60 hissed, glaring at the redhead.

"The door was locked for a reason, numbuh 86." He snarled. She only smiled.

"SO it was, and I'll apologize to numbuh 14 for the intrusion, but you've got a report that numbuh 362 told me to come get, and as I'm sure we've both got better things to do right now, and I sure doona want to have to baby sit ye- never did, and I wouldn't have to if ye'd turn the damn things in when they're supposed to be… I'll leave ye alone as soon as I get the damn report." Her voice was oddly pleasant as she held out her hand.

Again, numbuh 60 snarled at her, but he grabbed a wrinkled pack of papers and slammed it into her hand. She smiled at him with a saccharine sweetness as she took it.

"Get yer God damned reports in on time, an' I wouldn't have to break yer door. She turned to walk out and then sighed. "Sorry again, for the intrusion, numbuh 14." She drawled as she walked out.

* * *

She was even more pissed when she slapped the report on Rachel's desk 20 minutes later.

"Here's the fuckin' report, Rachel." She snarled.

Rachel raised an eyebrow at her best friend. "Eh, Problem, Fanny?" she asked the redhead.

"NO." the word came out forcefully, leaving Rachel to wonder just what had pissed the girl off so much. Of course, the answer to that had been simple. Patton.

How was the question, now. The officer in question had been giving the Irish girl as much of a distance as was humanly possible for the last three years.

Rachel shook her head, knowing that it wouldn't be a good idea to meddle in it. So she tried to shrug it off as much as she could…

And she had no sooner decided this when Patton himself came barging in.

"What the HELL, Rachel?" he yelled, handsome face twisted in pure and total fury. Rachel's toffee colored eyes narrowed in warning

"Whatever do you mean, Numbuh 60?" she asked, voice crisp. "Are you referring to Fran's destruction of your office door and intrusion of your privacy?"

His own grey eyes narrowed at his supreme leader and a hiss came from his throat.

"Patton, seriously, that report was due a _month_ ago, and you put every other operative I sent to get it in intensive training for asking you about it, the last of which being numbuh 35 _last week_. What did you expect me to do? I am the supreme leader of the TND, and I _need_ those reports to do _my job_."

"And I always get the damn things in, on time or not-"

"That is not the issue, here, 60." Rachel snapped, "It's the fact that I need them when you're _supposed_ to get them in. I wouldn't have even _sent_ Fran if it wasn't for the fact that- besides myself- she is the _only_ one that you can't make to extra training when she pisses you off! Not to mention, it seems as if she's the only person you will _apparently_ do _anything_ to get away from! Speaking of which, why _are_ you avoiding her like a plague?"

She studied his face as it changed from pissed off to pale and almost sick looking.

"No reason… I just don't like her."

"And that, Patton is so much of a lie- and so much of an obvious one – that I cannot even express it in words. If you actually expect me to believe that crutch you fall back on, you are sadly mistaken…. And utterly insulting my intelligence."

He winced and sighed. "I don't even know myself, Rachel. Honestly, I don't know what the hell's going on here…"

"Yeah, no kidding… from what I heard- and I had to force her to tell me, Fran caught you in your office as you were in a hell of a make-out party with Mary-Lou Sara-Jane Jones… and her shirt was off? Really, Patton, a little decorum in the office would be nice…"

"What the hell does that mean?" Patton asked, voice cooling… an icy kind of temper starting to swirl in those deep grey eyes.

"To put it simply? _No sex during TND work hours_."

He glared and left.

 _ **miłość-Love (Polish)**_

 _ **piękny- Beautiful (Polish)**_

 _ **Dhia- Oh, God (Irish)**_

 _ **Go hIfreann leis seo- To Hell With This (Irish)**_

 _ **Or at least so says Google….. Anyway…. As always, R &R, I love them. **_


	2. Memories

_**I'M BACK! This was quick… but that's because it was already written down… from here on out, I get to go off of what I think should happen next…. Funny how it took me two years to actually name this sucker…**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I still don't own anything… I wish I did though… I'd probably not be broke.**_

Breaker

Chapter 2

Fanny was in the M-Base's gym when Rachel found her. For a few minutes, the blond watched her friend as she was seemingly beating the shit out of a punching bag as she muttered in Gaelic under her breath.

"Jesus, Fan, what did that punching bag ever do to you?"

Fran looked around and sighed when she saw Rachel standing behind her. "Nothing, Rach, Just keepin' in shape."

"Yeah? And I'm the queen of England."

"You aren't that old, yet, lass." The redhead snorted.

"Not the point, Fran. What's really eating you?" Rachel gave her an expectant stare, waiting for the answer.

Fran sighed and looked at her commanding officer. Her green eyes were- for the first time since Rachel T. McKenzie knew her- eerily calm. She paused a minute before answering. "Numbuh 60's came in to complain about how I handled it, didn't he?" she asked the blond.

"Yeah… and this is something he normally does….." Rachel said dryly, waiting. The fact that Patton came in to complain about her was nothing new, so something else must be bugging her.

"But he hasn't left yet, has he?"

"Uh… no…." Rachel frowned. "Huh, I guess he hasn't."

"Which means that I'm going to have to deal with him when I get back to my office, because you can bet your ass that he's going to be there, waiting to pounce…. And yell at me directly."

"Why don't you go get it over with?" Rachel asked. "It's not like you don't give as good as you get."

Fran shrugged. "I… really just don't want to. I'm drained to be honest. I don't think that I could really handle another fight- or whatever it was that we just had. I didn't get enough sleep, and to tell the truth, I'm really getting sick of fighting with him all the time."

Rachel patted Fran on the back sympathetically. She knew how draining the fights between those two were… then again, she also knew that- when neither of them were tired and cranky as hell, they enjoyed their fights.

What the two didn't seem to realize was the incredibly stifling tension around them when they walked into the same room…. It was thick enough to cut with a butter knife, and damn near impossible to breathe in.

For everyone in the room…. And most could literally see the sparks of electricity coming off the pair.

Rachel shook her head. "Then bypass your office, and just go home, honey." Rachel smiled at the redhead, and patted her arm. "Or go to Lime Rickey's."

"Aye… did ye know he's got some really nice Jameson's now? He's gettin' it from a cousin of his who lives in Ireland."

Rachel snorted. "I'm still getting past the fact that He's started to serve alcohol as well as soda."

"Soda for the kids, alcohol for the teens… and still not a one ta drink me under the table." Fran drawled.

"Yeah…. Okay then, anyway sorry for getting you into this, Fran. It's my fault he's angry."

"I'm going to point out the fact that ye didn't _tell_ me to kick in his office door…"

"True, but I knew that you probably would do something like that. By the way, how's your little cottage?"

" _Way_ better than my parents' stuffy mansion…." Fanny snorted. "I always did _hate_ that place…"

"Go home, Fanny. That's an order. I'll deal with Numbuh 60."

"Yes sir."

Rachel followed the redhead to the ship's hanger, and made sure that she was on her way home before she went to Fanny's office.

Low and behold- and according to Fanny's prediction, Patton was there. She sighed as she stepped in. The things she did for her friends… She fixed the officer with a glare. This was getting old, and she was really starting to get angry at the young man… last year in the TND be damned.

"Planning on ripping into her soldier?" she said it quietly, annoyance becoming like a knife. A weapon that she was very adept at wielding.

He spun, a picture frame from Fanny's desk in his hands, looking a bit like he did that time when they were in the KND, and she'd caught him with his hand literally in her special cookie jar.

"Were you here to yell at another operative who was only following orders, Numbuh 60?" Her toffee colored eyes narrowed.

He gritted his teeth, and glared right back at her. But he did not say a word. She went on. "She left. On my orders. Your orders are to go home and cool down that hot head of yours. Now."

He left. She knew that he wouldn't disobey his orders. He was too good of a soldier to do that…. One that was headed for the real military in a few months' time… she shook her head and tried not to dwell on that, though… it was too depressing.

Curious, she went to the desk and picked up the picture that he'd been holding. She gasped as tears filled her eyes.

It's funny how an old picture can be so bittersweet to look at… this one so much more so than a majority that Rachel had ever seen.

It was of the three of them… Patton and Fanny shared the spotlight, the redhead's arms were around him, and Rachel herself was behind them, giving both of them bunny ears. A big, goofy grin was spread across the seven year old boy's face, as his own arm was around the five year old Fanny's shoulders, the redhead herself was captured in the midst of laughing, and Rachel's face was spread in a big toothy grin.

Rachel grinned through the tears. They had been celebrating being in the KND for a full year. "She still has the picture…" she chuckled, still smiling as she walked out of the room.

* * *

Fran was humming when she walked through the door of her four bedroom cottage that sat at the edge of the town right outside of Cleveland OH, at the edge of Cuyahoga Valley National Park. It was five miles away from a small bookstore/café where she worked.

She smiled as she set her bag down and made her way to the kitchen to start making tea. When the whistle of her teapot sounded, she poured the tea and added a shot of whiskey in it for good measure. Then, she sat in her favorite big, plushy recliner.

It was time, she thought, to delve into her reaction to what she'd caught numbuh 60 doing in his office with numbuh 14. She glared at her mug, plucking at the tea bag's string. She didn't want to do it. She couldn't even figure out what she was so… upset about…

Well, that was a lie. She hated that he had so much power over her. If she was going to be honest with herself, she would say that he drove her to insanity… and the only reason that she could deal with it right now was because he didn't know what a handle he had on her.

She took a sip of her tea and grimaced, as she realized that it had gone cold. Coughing a bit from swallowing it wrong, she took the cup and dumped it in the sink. Obviously, the realization that she'd been jealous of numbuh 14 was one of those little things that could make her loose her will to even drink her favorite beverage.

And that in itself pissed her off.

As it was, Fanny didn't want to be awake anymore… she really just wanted to put this really bad day behind her, so she did what any girl (who had a bathtub Jacuzzi) did. She went to the bathroom and took a really long, really hot bath. And when she got out an hour later, she put on her favorite and most comfortable pajamas, and snuggled into her bed.

She was out like a light in mere minutes.

* * *

In the Colorado Rockies, a different scenario was taking place. In the basement of the Drilovski residence, Patton was methodically beating the shit out of a punching bag that his father had put up for Patton and his older brother when Jason had started middle school.

As he punched, he tried to figure out just when all of this… tension… started between numbuh 86 and himself. It wasn't hard to pinpoint the exact timeframe. It had been four years ago, Fran's first day of being in the TND.

* * *

 _"Just another day in paradise…" the fifteen year old operative muttered to himself. He'd just gotten the news from numbuh 362 herself. Two years of a Francesca Esmeralda Fulbright free Teens Next Door were coming to an end today._

 _If he was actually truthful with himself, he might have thought (consciously) that he was just a little excited, for he'd really kind of missed the fights that they'd gotten into… and really, those had started to wind down about the time that he'd been 'decommissioned'. She'd mellowed out a bunch, he'd remembered, and could only think of one thing that could have done so._

 _It had been the mission that he and a majority of the boys of the KND had taken on about a year before his 13_ _th_ _birthday._

 _It had left the fate of the KND almost entirely in the hands of the KND's female population… and had (according to numbuh 362 herself) had been both one of the best ideas that they'd come up with, as well as the most idiotic, stupid, and reckless things in KND history._

 _It also had apparently taught_ some _people that none of the boys were 'useless and stupid'. As she had put._

 _She'd turned into an officer that was only a tyrant to the idiots who actually deserved it- and that meant the girls, too. But other than that, she had become an officer that was actually well liked- besides her being the Head of Decommissioning._

 _That was four years ago, though, and Patton wasn't sure what they would encounter with her now that she was going to be one of them….. He let out a breath, wondering exactly what that would be when he saw her. He froze._

 _She'd changed. Her brilliantly red hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. Though, it didn't seem to tame it at all, really. It was too curly for that. She wore a black, high necked tank top that stopped short, baring her snow white and toned stomach to the world, army green army surplus cargo pants that were on her, black gloves, and her usual tan boots- though these ones were laced. She didn't wear any make up. Her messenger bag was black now. And she didn't seem much taller, really… though, he gulped…_

 _She may not have grown any taller… but she'd been growing out. His fifteen year old heart was pounding out a tangent and he was suddenly rather annoyed. She looked up, surprise flicking across her face as she saw who it was that was standing in front of her._

 _"I didn't expect to see ye so soon, P- eh, numbuh 60…." She said it calmly. Her Irish brogue seemed to sear him, and he didn't know why. He'd never liked it, really, and it made her sound increasingly annoying when she was yelling (which was_ all of the time _…), like nails on a chalkboard annoying._

 _Her bottle green eyes stared up into his grey ones. She cocked her head to the side and gave him an odd half smile._

 _Patton scowled. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" he snapped._

 _A flash of hurt crossed through those pretty green eyes. He glared in annoyance. "No' really…" she said quietly. "Ah have orders ta' explore the base…"_

 _"Well, get to that, and leave me out of it." He snarled_

 _Her eyes flashed this time. "I wasn't plannin' on runnin' into ye, ye jerk. 'Tisn't my fault ye decided ta' come here today."_

 _He snorted and turned away from her._

* * *

Patton gritted his teeth in a grimace at the memory of that first day. And that feeling that he'd felt around her had not gotten any better as time had gone on…. Of that, he was sure. And there were only a few ways that he could even try to get rid of the tension he felt around her. Option one- what he was doing at the moment, pounding on the punching bag.

Option two he couldn't discuss in whatever counted as 'polite' company. And the final was picking a fight with the redheaded shrew that caused this in the first place. Which he couldn't do- today.

Honestly, his temper was not her fault- and he knew it, but she was his usual vent (it was just too easy to piss her off). He enjoyed arguing with her. She hadn't changed too much from the girl that had terrorized the boys of the KND. She didn't get into many fights, and she was a bit mellower than she had been… but she was still the evil- tempered kind of bitchy redhead that he'd known for years.

Sweaty and tired, he walked upstairs. He was still in a bad mood, and being tired only made it that much worse. Maybe pounding on the punching bag was not the best of ideas I this case….

What was worse was that she didn't even know how edgy she made him- without even trying. He frowned as he got ready for bed, and when he flopped down into the mattress, he lay staring at the ceiling until his stormy grey eyes closed.

 _ **AND there is chapter 2. Read and Review. Seriously, tell me what you think…. I love reviews. TTFN!**_


	3. A Few More of Your Least Favorite Things

Breaker

 _ **Disclaimer: Read the first damn chapter. IF I owned it, it would still be going, 86 an 60 would have bigger parts, and I would be filthy friggin' rich. I also don't own any quotes that I put up… since I got reamed for that one once, too.**_

Chapter 3

 **There are no raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses, it's sleeping with roaches and taking best guesses, shred all the seats and before all the stains, and a few more of your least favorite things. Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy**

 _ **~Build God, and Then We'll Talk- Panic! At the Disco**_

 _It was another dream. This time, he was sure of it. She was sitting under a tree, her face completely relaxed as she slept, the sunlight shining though the gaps in the leaves. Her brilliant scarlet hair piled on her head as if she had only just put it up to be out of the way._

 _She didn't seem to notice him as she indulged in her cat nap under a tree. In fact, she looked almost happy. Something that he didn't usually see when she was around him. He frowned. Where had that come from? Since when did he care?_

 _She yawned, languidly stretching her arms up over her head. Her bright green eyes slowly opened, and lazily inspected his presence- much like a cat would. She gave him a quirky half smile._

 _"Hullo, Patton…" she said it softly, and yet, although they were a bit of a distance from each other, he'd heard it as clearly as if she was standing right next to him._

 _He glared at her. "What the fuck are you doing in my dream, 86?" he snarled. He really had enough of her during work hours. He didn't need to deal with her during the hours he was sleeping._

 _She let out a laugh. "I don't know,_ leannán, _Why don't ye ask yourself tha'?" her accent was even thicker than it usually was, the music of Ireland in every word. His eye twitched._

 _She went on "I don't control your dreams, Patton. I'm just here for the ride." Her voice was more serious now. He snarled again._

 _"Get the hell out."_

 _"I don't know how to,_ a gra _. If I could… well, actually, I probably wouldn't. I am, after all, just a figment of your imagination…."_

 _"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" he snapped._

 _"It means tha' ye are the one who brought me here, you asinine jerk. No' me. I had nothing to do with this. Stop yelling at_ me _for_ your _problems. I'm getting pretty sick of it."_

 _He said nothing._

 _She snorted. "Wow. It didn't take much to shut ye up this time, did it? Maybe ye needed me to kick ye in the ass before meeting my real life counterpart…"_

 _"What?" this he didn't understand._

 _"It's like this," she began, " Since it's painfully obvious that you are in denial… and refuse to actually talk to someone about it, Your subconscious decided to screw ye over and have enlisted the help of a dream version of Numbuh 86 to make ye realize whatever it is that ye need to realize." She said it dryly, curling some of that long brilliantly red hair around on slim pale finger._

 _She looked bored, he realized. His eyes narrowed. "I don't need help." He snapped._

 _"And the last time ye said that, my friend, you nearly got yourself killed." She said it softly, almost sadly._

 _"Go to hell."_

 _She looked at him fully now, and he could see those green eyes were light with fury. "I am only here because you- in your subconscious- truly want to see her. Don't tell me to go to hell, you jackass. Fuck off and wake up."_

He woke with a start. Well, fuck, not again. And this time, the dream had made him feel like an asshole. She was just as bad…. Wasn't she?

He frowned as he realized that… no, she really wasn't. She'd changed since being in the TND. She no longer took her anger out on every male in existence, and she was (according to quite a few operatives these days) actually rather pleasant to be around…

Unless he was around. Patton grimaced. Of course she wasn't pleasant around him. He'd been an ass to her since she'd first started at the TND. She hated him.

Where she used to start the fights on a regular basis with him, now he did the same to her. Who was the one who'd grown up? Or, rather, the word he was looking for was matured….

Something that was said in the TND that everyone took to heart was 'Growing _old_ is mandatory. Growing _up_ is optional.' It was the TND's slogan. He snarled as he went back to sleep. This was annoying. Why was he starting to listen to what a phantom in his dreams was saying?

* * *

 _She stared out the window, right at the moons of Mars. That was odd… she thought, as Rachel had sent her home, and as much as she loved the Mars Base, she didn't want to be there right now. Actually, if she was being honest with herself, she didn't want to be there for the rest of the week._

 _A dry grin came to her face as she realized that one. She would rather just sit at her pretty little cottage, drink tea and perhaps catch up on reading that book that she'd been dying to start- the one that she'd just gotten._

 _She heard the door open behind her, and then, the smell hit her. The forest after a rainstorm… a slight smoldering campfire…._

 _She winced. Even in her head, she couldn't get away from him completely… God, why? She turned, slowly, and her green eyes met his silver ones._

 _God, why did she think like that? His eyes were grey, not fucking silver…_

 _"The feck are ye doin' in me office?" she sapped, glaring at him._

 _"I don't know, why don't you tell me that, 86?" he drawled. She felt her eye twitch._

 _"Look, just go away. I don't want to deal with ye right now." She muttered. She sighed. She was asleep, so why did she feel so… tired? God, he made her tired. She groaned._

 _"I want to wake up…." She said quietly,_

 _"Trying to get away from me even in your dreams? That scared of me, huh?"_

 _"Just of what you seem to be able to do to me…" She muttered. "I didn't ask for this, you know…."_

 _"I know."_

 _"Why are ye such a prick? Even in some of my dreams, you're a prick… but in others… why are you being nice to me right now?"_

 _He smirked. "I am a figment of your imagination, brought on by your subconscious."_

 _She shook her head. "I give up…" she muttered. "It's too exhausting."_

 _"Can't take a challenge, 86?" he drawled._

 _"No. Not right now."_

 _He walked over to where she was standing. His hands came up, and gently took her arms. "Wake up,_ kochanie," _he whispered. She blinked as she looked up at him._

She woke. Not for the first time did she wonder why she was doing this to herself. Or, rather, why her subconscious wanted to make her life miserable. She sighed softly. She looked at the clock. She snorted at the time that it showed.

Well, she had to get up sooner or later… it was just her luck that it was…. Way sooner than later. Damn it. It was five thirty in the morning, and she hated mornings in the first place… she sighed as she got up and walked to the kitchen. She was awake, she was irritable, and she needed some form of caffeine

"Franny, what are you doing up…?" her brother's voice was groggy with sleepiness in the kitchen doorway.

"Couldn't sleep anymore. Need caffeine, since I can't. It's time for tea…"

"What are you, the mad hatter?" Paddy grumbled.

"Nope. Just a tea junkie."

"Weirdo…."

"And your point is?"

Paddy shook his head and said nothing else. She snorted, before going back to her teapot. Soon, the kitchen was saturated in the sweet scent of her blackberry tea. She smiled contentedly as she poured some cream and sugar in it.

"Smells good, Fan-Fan. Can I have some?" Shawnie yawned as he walked in.

"On the counter. You too, Paddy." She said, jerking her head to indicate the two steaming cups of tea. Neither of them knew how to make it like she did.

"Thanks." Paddy grinned at her. Fanny rolled her eyes.

"Tch. Like ye would make it yourself, lazy boy… Ye could give my sofa lessons." She snickered. Her brothers gave her almost identically lazy grins.

She rolled her eyes as she took both in. At fifteen, Paddy had grown his hair out to the point that he needed a hair tie to keep it back- and oddly enough, it made him look edgy. His face had lost the childhood fat, and was starting to get leaner- sharp cheekbones, redhead pale skin and freckles, and a long rangy build that he'd started to finally take care of.

And at thirteen, Shawnie- or Shawn, as people had started to call him, was starting to shoot up. He was getting lanky- much like Paddy had been.

Paddy stood at about 5' 8", and Shawn stood at 5' 5". Both stood taller than her 5'2", pixie build. A fact that they not only enjoyed immensely, but hung over her head (Sometimes literally) at every opportunity.

"Don't the two of ye have work to do?" she growled.

"My sector decided to take a leave of absence… no actually, Harvey had an appointment with the doctor today…." Paddy returned.

"I'm on call at Med Bay today. Apparently, the supreme leader decided that I needed a break from stitching you lot back up." Shawn said.

"So go out and do something… I doona care what ye do, just get out of me hair so I can clean me house." She huffed.

"Jesus, Fan…" Paddy snorted, "Your accent comes out stronger in the morning."

"Shu' up, ye bleedin' thick…" she snapped. By this time though, both brothers had started cracking up. She started pouting.

"Eejits…" She grumbled as her brothers walked out. She sighed as she watched them go through the door. She was now left to her own thoughts. She liked it. For about two seconds… so when a pair of grey eyes floated across her conscious mind, and a deep, tenor, polish accented voice came out of nowhere to whisper across her skin to wake up….

….She wondered what on earth had possessed her to snap at her brothers to go out and do something….

Because frankly, she realized that she didn't want to be left alone with her own mind for company if what was on her mind was… _him_.

* * *

 _ **All right, peeps, here is the third installment of Breaker, my newest KND fanfiction. As always, Read and review. This sucker took me forever to wright and re-wright. And even now, I have my doubts about it. The insults that Fanny spits out in here are well, some that I found off the internet looking up 'Irish insults'. Being (I think) 4**_ _ **th**_ _ **generation Irish- or 5**_ _ **th**_ _ **(depending on who you talk to) I don't know many, so give me some ideas. I promise to try to be better at getting new chapters up… but as I've got like, five other stories in the works… well….yeah. TTYL**_

 _ **~Angel of Pandemonium (corrupting your childhood since 2009) ©**_

 _ **(That's right, folks, I hereby copyright my name and slogan… though not legally.)**_


	4. Ten Things I hate About You

Breaker

 _ **Okay… I am honestly surprised at this…. I don't know how it happened, but I managed to get yet another chapter out… and so soon too. Wow. It's a miracle…. Anyway, here we go. Get ready for another bout of major teenage hormones going rampant.**_

Chapter 4

Another day, another migraine, Patton thought as he walked into his base- he thought of it as his. He worked the hardest in it, he was entitled. He sighed as he walked back to his office- and to his newly fixed door, he gave a kick behind him as he walked in. He wanted to be alone.

Not an easy thing to do when it came down to it. Not in the TND high command… and that was where he was. That was where she was too. He glared, his jaw clenching as he thought about it. About her. She was driving him nuts. Just her thought…

Well, not just that. It was her voice, her walk, her eyes, and her lips- dear god, what was wrong with him? He hissed. He didn't even like her and yet he found himself lusting after her. That was wrong, so very wrong.

Just four more months- he'd started the countdown- until he could get the hell out of here. Yes, he loved being in the TND… but he couldn't seem to stand her. She seemed to have a grip on him… one that he couldn't stand. Dear god, he'd thought that this…. Thing would have died already, but still, he found himself thinking of her at the oddest of times.

It wasn't until numbuh 14 came in that he was able to get her out of his mind. She gave him a smile. "Hey, numbuh sixty… you busy?" her low southern drawl crept along his skin, and he looked up.

He smirked at her. This was the kind of girl he was attracted to, not bombshell redheads with a foul temper. "Nope."

"No paperwork to turn in…?" her purr was saccharine.

"Not today."

"Well then…" She murmured as she slinked up to him, "I think that I could give you something to take your mind off of the tedium…"

His chuckle was dark as she twined herself around him. "Why don't we pick up where we left off, Hmm?"

He just grinned.

* * *

It wasn't her day. She was tired. She'd cleaned her house at five in the morning- after kicking her brothers out for a bit- and she couldn't get away from her thoughts. When she was called into the TND at seven, she'd groaned, but had gone anyway.

Now, she stood in front of her supreme leader, more pissed off than she had probably ever been… and that was something that was hard to do. She couldn't see for the red in her gaze, and her small body quavered with pure, unadulterated rage at the commander of the Siberian prison base.

"You mean to tell me that that prick gave me the wrong paper?" she hissed.

"Yep." Rachel sighed as she looked at her friend. She knew that the redhead would do literally anything to get out of what she was about to do. "I'm serious. I need that report, Fanny. I wouldn't ask you otherwise… and frankly, I didn't need to know anything of what that correspondence to numbuh 287 was. Which now I do…. And I really need to go take a cold shower."

"Does he have a girl on every continent?" the redhead hissed.

"Probably more than one." The blond muttered, watching her friend try and reign in her temperament. It wasn't working

"Probably a girl on every island, as well," Fanny muttered.

"More than likely… So, I'm going to need you to go and get his report…." Rachel sighed.

Fanny's eyes narrowed. She was actually looking forward to a fight with the black haired commander.

"Fine. I'll go get your fucking report, Rachel." She snarled.

Fanny left the office. _'I_ hate _my life…_ ' she thought darkly as she stomped to the hanger.

In as much of a wrath she was in, she didn't see the other commanding officer who was waiting outside Rachel's door.

"Is it wise, sir" a cool British voice rang out, "to send her to collect that report?"

The blond looked up, and she smiled. "Hello, Nigel." She murmured, getting up from her desk. The brit grinned at his girlfriend as she hugged him. He sobered up almost instantly, though. He frowned.

"Rachel, seriously, was that a good idea, love?"

Rachel made a face. "Maybe not, but they need to run into each other a few times." She muttered. "He's four months from going away." She muttered into his shirt.

"I don't want him to go without at least talking it out with her…"

"They don't talk, they yell, argue and scream at each other." He said dryly. "And then, they start getting rash. Physical. This might not end the way you want it to, Rachel.

"I need to try. But your wrong about one thing, Nigel." She said. "Patton would never hurt her, and Fanny… even if she wanted to, she couldn't hurt him."

"He wouldn't hurt her on purpose, Rachel, you and I both know that he could hurt her without meaning to."

Rachel winced. "I didn't…"

"Think about that, yeah. You're good, Ray, but you tend to be a bit rash when your friends- especially them- are concerned." He said it softly.

Blue eyes met brown as she looked up at him. His ever present sunglasses were missing, and his brown hair hung in his face in messy disarray.

"Crap." She muttered. "What did I do?" She whispered.

"What you thought was right for them." He returned. "You are right about the fact that they need to talk…"

Fanny was pissed off. More so now. She knew- she just knew that he was with another girl just by walking into the base, and seeing the 44 twins jumped. The way Maria Janson- Patton's younger sister and numbuh 860- was looking at her, a mixture of trepidation and sadness.

She felt sick. Why did she fell so sick? It wasn't _her_ business who he slept with… she recoiled at the thought. God, why?

She got to the door of his office right when it opened…. And numbuh 14 walked out. Her shirt was inside out. Her hair was messed up. She had a hickey on her neck. To top it off, she was giggling. Fanny wanted to gag.

What had Rachel gotten her into? Well, at least she didn't have to break his door down this time. She just walked to the door and leaned against it.

Low and behold, Fanny saw Patton smirking and leaning back in his chair, his own hair a mess and he looked relaxed. She glared. "I see you look relaxed." She said quietly.

His head jerked up, and gray met green. She couldn't have kept the accusation out of her voice if she had tried, and as it was, she was just too pissed off to give a shit.

"Yeah. I am feeling pretty relaxed, 86… what can I do for you?"

"Ye could start by giving me the right paper so that I don't have to come down here a million times to get one fucking report." She snarled, her voice acerbic.

"I did give you the damn report. I don't know what crawled up your ass, Francesca, but I would appreciate it if you didn't take it out on me."

"Oh, what, like you seem to do every time ye get into a snit, Patton?" she snarled. "I'm pissed because I find myself having to come back to this hellhole just to get one report… that you were supposed to turn in two fucking weeks ago!" she yelled.

"Dear god, shut the fuck up! I swear that the banshees are nicer to listen to then you, you damn harpy."

"I'm a harpy? Oh, that's rich, you chauvinistic asshole! I can't fucking fathom how you became an officer! Not with the way you act!"

"The fuck, 86? I missed one fucking report!"

"its no' jest the report and ye know it, you arrogant Jackass!" she yelled. "It's the fact that when you are not fucking a different girl in ye're office every fucking week, ye're taking potshots at me, ye can't seem to turn in a single report when ye're supposed to – and it was NOT jest this one, Patton, it was EVERY SINGLE ONE of them! I am constantly finding myself havin' ta come down here to get yer ass in gear to get them done because I'm the only one ye CAN'T fucking put on extra training duty!"

She was screaming at the top of her lungs now, and Patton felt the nails on the chalkboard. He didn't want or need this shit.

"Dear god, you prudish little bitch, at least I have a life that grant me the ability to be late on shit!"

She froze. Now vibrating with anger. "Better be a prudish bitch than a man-whore who can't keep it in his pants." She hissed. "At least I can actually get my work done. Give me the god-damned report so that I can go home."  
HE didn't move. He couldn't think of anything to say. Not to that. She skirted around him and looked on his desk for the papers that she was looking for. When she found it, she grabbed it and started to walk past him when he stopped her.

She found herself against his wall, his face centimeters from her, before his lips crashed down onto hers. She knew what he was doing. She felt the lava start running through her veins at the scent of him, hot chocolate and peppermint, frosted over pine made her high…. His hand was tangled in her hair, his mouth hot and punishing. This was dominance. He was not asking, he was taking. She did not have a choice… and she reveled in it.

He bit and sucked at her, sharp canine teeth scraping at her bottom lip, breaking the skin. He lapped at the sore, and the electricity seemed to destroy both of them- even as it built them back up. She was prepared to give him everything in her….

If it wasn't for the fact that he'd just finished fucking the blond haired bombshell that was numbuh 14. She froze at the thought. And then, she fought. She brought her knee up hard between his legs, and then snarled.

"Ah will _NO'_ goin' ta be the next bunny on yer fuck buddy list, you bastard. _Doona EVER_ touch me again." She hissed it. She was shaking. "And ye were jest provin' me point by tryin' it with me." She hissed as she wiped her hand over her mouth. Her body vibrated from the leftover energy.

She stopped as he got up and turned to him. Her eyes were alight with fury as she glared at him.

"No' so long ago, we actually got along, Patton… a little longer ago, we were friends. I couldn't tell ye what happened to end it… but this… this is…." She didn't even finish. He could feel her disgust coming off of her, and he felt… well, he'd never felt quite so slimy.

Which just pissed him off more.

She left, and he was floored.

That was the first time that she'd ever pissed him off that badly. To the point that he'd very nearly (And would have if she hadn't fought back) lost all control.

Deep down, he knew that she was the only one who had ever been able to do that to him. They had been alone this time. That was why he'd lost his hold on his control. Something that he'd never done before. No with her… not in a crowd (Where they usually fought).

He'd just royally fucked this whole thing up… even worse than it already was. And it had already been screwed up. Shit. He was off like a shot after her. All he could think was that

By the time he caught up to her, she was in the hanger, and it was deserted but for the two of them. "Fanny. Stop. Please?" he yelled. She turned. The cold look on her face was foreign to him.

"Look, I… didn't mean to do that. I don't know what just happened, but I didn't mean for that to happen."

She froze. She turned, her green eyes wide. "Are ye… are ye apologizing to me?" she whispered, her eyes wide with surprise.

"I fucked up big time, so yeah. I am. I didn't mean…."

"It's fine. But that never happened. I will not acknowledge that it ever happened. You will not touch me again. I meant what I said in there. I will not be put on that list of lasses that you've screwed and then left."

She turned around and got on her ship. He stood there, watching. She hadn't forgiven him. Not really… She didn't forgive or forget easily. She had decided to brush it off. He found himself thankful… and at the same time, it pissed him off that she could do that so easily.

And the only thing that he could think of was 'What the hell is wrong with me?'

* * *

 _ **AAANNNDDD... that's that. Stay tuned for next time on Breaker. Sorry for the cliffhanger. AOP out! Read and Review.**_


	5. Oh! The Shame!

Breaker

Chapter 5

 _Oh, the shame! Humility! What a wicked gang are we! Like a liar looking down on a thief looking down on a killer looking down on a creep! Oh, the sinking ship will only hold its course for just so long. Eventually, that's when they'll see everything is wrong._

 _ **~Streetlight Manifesto- What a Wicked Gang Are We.**_

The air around the two operatives had always been tense. No one – not even those in the TND loony bin- would say otherwise. They all felt it. They all knew it. It was unescapable, and though it always had been, this was worse.

Now, it was downright palpable. You would need a sword to cut through it, and those who were exposed to such intensity usually needed a shower afterword- a cold one. His eyes went from grey to black when she was around him, her posture froze, and she couldn't seem to move when he came into her line of sight.

Though, Bartie Stork, also known as numbuh 35, was the first to notice something else… She was livid. Every time she came face-to-face with numbuh 60, her eyes would sharpen like glass and she would glare at him, as if wishing him to the deepest pit of hell.

Or so it seemed. Another thing that seemed to catch every other operative's attention was the lack of arguments. That was the downright scary thing that no one could understand. No one knew exactly what had happened, not in the Arctic Base, not at M- Base, not in her squad, and not his highest ranking officers, and not her brothers.

They had gone from two raging storms that were always at odds, the two that seemed to turn into a veritable super tornado when they met, seemed oddly quiet. There was no storm, there was no anything. Like in the eye of a storm. The two seemed to be waiting for the other side of the storm. Most were prepping for the explosion. It was nerve wracking waiting.

Not like most weren't used to this already… most knew the two too well, had known them since the KND. Those people knew that this type of thing happened sometimes. Rarely, but sometimes. And when it exploded, when the tension finally broke, all hell would break loose. There would be casualties.

This worried Rachel. No, that wasn't right, the blond frowned. The whole situation worried her. What had happened to her best friends that suddenly they were treating each other like the plague, until they could not any longer. And when they could not avoid each other, they ignored each other- or rather, Fran ignored Patton. And he did nothing to put a stop to it.

This too, worried the blond haired supreme leader.

She looked out the window toward Phobos, and sighed. Maybe she had taken a miss step with them. Her eyes narrowed, and she pushed the button on her buzzer.

"Numbuh 65.3, get me numbuh 86. Tell her that I'd like to see her in my office, please."

"Sir… I, um, I don't want to… bug her…"

"That is a direct order, numbuh 65.3. I expect you to do it. ASA Now. This is not a negotiation. Do it."

She hung up, and waited.

* * *

When Fran walked through the door of her office, Rachel took a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing…. Or something… or… well, something horrible at the very least.

"Ye rang fer me, sir?"

This surprised Rachel to say the least. The usually boisterous redhead was acting quiet and… docile to be frank. She was behaving in a totally contradictory way to her usual- and seemingly former self. This was truly disconcerting to the blond. She almost didn't want to ask what had happened between the two officers.

At least, she didn't want to ask Fran. It seemed a bit too harsh. But, as the supreme leader- and as Fran's best friend, she had no choice. Not if she wanted to fix whatever was going on between the two commanders. Vaguely, she wondered what Nigel would do in her place. She took another deep breath.

"Yes, I did. Fran, what happened with you and numbuh 60?" she asked it directly. No use beating around the bush with either of these two. She watched as Fran's shoulders jerked, her eyes narrowed and she frowned.

"I donna want ta talk about it, Ray." She muttered. "It's no' a big deal an' all…"

"Yes, Fran, it is. If it's got you acting like this, and this time, Francesca, I need you to tell me." Rachel's voice became hard. She knew that Fran didn't want to talk about it. She wasn't stupid. If the redhead had, then it would already be said. The girl wasn't one to hold back.

Unless it was something that was really bad…. Rachel felt fear grip her. What exactly had numbuh 60 done to her?

Would he really have…?

No. Rachel shook her head. Patton had a nasty ass temper but he had a glacial control over it. Except… around… numbuh 86…. And then it was usually compromised. "Fan… did he hit you or something?" the 'or something' hung in the air.

The vehemence in Fran's response was immediate. "No!" she snarled. "He didna' do anything like ye're thinkin'. Shame on ye fer thinking tha' he would… or tha' I would let 'im!" she was now glaring. "Come on, Rachel. Think a little before ye go askin' somethin' like tha'!"

For the life of her, Fran couldn't understand why she was defending the ass, but Rachel had gone too far with that one. It was just a kiss… only a kiss…

One that she'd all but melted from. One that was given in the heat of temper and anger… right after he had screwed another girl….

"Look, Rachel, things got out of hand. But Patton would never hurt me." Not intentionally, anyway. Why the hell was she still defending him… even to herself.

"Then why won't you tell me what happened?" Rachel asked, exasperated.

Fran sighed, then sunk down in a chair. "Do ye still have tha' Jack tha' I got ye fer yer birthday last year?" she asked. Rachel got it down, the bottle of Jack Daniels fireball whiskey was still half full. Rachel only drank it on rare occasions…. It was her favorite, after all… no use wasting it. She poured two shots for each of them, and watched as her best friend downed it with the flair of a western outlaw of the wild west.

"when ye sent me to the NS arctic base this last time, I walked into another little scene between Patton and numbuh 14. We got into another fight… and I don't know what happened, but Patton snapped and suddenly, he was kissing me…. And dear god, Rachel, I was melting… until I remembered that Mary-Lou had just walked out of his office. And what they had been doing. I kneed him, and yelled at him a bit more for it. He apologized, and I left. That's it."

By the end of her explanation, Rachel had gone slack jawed, and gaping at the redhead. "He… seriously kissed you?"

"Aye."

"And you kneed him in the…"

"Yep…"

"Ho….Ly…Shit…."

"Rachel, you're liable to catch flies that way…."

"There aren't any flies on Mars."

The redhead laughed a bit. "Look, I'm handling it. Maybe not well, but I'm handling it."

"By ignoring the ground he walks on and then trying to send him to hell with a glare?"

"I just said that I wasn't doing a very good job of it, but Jesus, Rachel, what am I supposed to do? He's getting under my skin, invading my veins and well, its eroding."

"Sounds awfuly like your falling in love with him…" Rachel responded. And then gaped. Oh god, no. that would be… really wrong. They hated each other.

"Had to happen eventually, Ray. Come on, even you had a thing for him at one point."

"Yeah, it was a crush and it was gone in a week. Because he's hot. You… I mean…. It would be…"

"Masochism at best, self-destruction at worst. I know. Can I go now? I mean, I gotta go find out how to get out of this mess…"

Rachel just nodded.

It was worse than she thought.

What the hell? She watched as her best friend walked out of the room. Oh god. This had just gotten about a kagillion times more difficult…..What was she going to do with this? How long had this been going on with the redhead? What about Patton? What would he think?

* * *

Questions were whirling around the blond's head when the door to her office opened again. She didn't hear the soft, British accented voice calling her name, or see through her dazed eyes the messy brunette hair of her boyfriend as she just took another shot.

She did, however, feel the young man's arm going around her and picking her up out of her chair.

"Now why is it that I come into the room and find you drinking, little one?" Nigel's voice rang in her ear he sat in her chair, and cradled her on his lap.

"I just found out why Fran and Patton have been…"

"Like a time bomb counting down to destruction?" Nigel's voice was dry as he finished that sentence. Rachel let out a helpless peal of laughter.

"You have no idea, Nigel. I mean, you really don't."

"Do you want me to talk to numbuh 60? See if I can find out his side of the story, love?" He looked at the blond over his glasses. Bright blue gazing into toffee golden brown.

"Nigel… she's… she's in love with him…." She whispered, then watched as those eyes- the same color as a Lapis Lazuli stone widen with shock.

"Please tell me that you're joking, love…." He said, his voice sounded a bit strangled. She sighed. "I wish that I was, Nigel, but… I don't think that she even knows how much she cares about him…."

"What do you mean?" Nigel sounded incredulous.

"She knows that she's in love with him, Nigel…. But the way she was defending Patton when I asked her if he'd done something…really bad to her was instant and vicious."

"You asked her if he'd hit or raped her?" The British boy blinked.

"Not in so few words, honestly. But yeah. I didn't think that he would, but Fran was pissed off when I asked."

"Yeah… uh, what if she asked if I'd hurt you? Or I f I'd raped you? How would you feel?"

"That's my point, Nigel. In our line of work, we are at risk of death. You know that. I know that. I already admitted to you that I love you. You already told me that you love me." She said it calmly, examining him, waiting for his reaction.

"Nigel, we know we love each other. I would at the very least ream anyone for asking me something like that. She reamed me pretty bad for asking her."

"If you are right, Rachel, this will get way worse before it ever gets any better…"

"I know. Nigel, they're my two best friends…."

He held her closer. How well he knew that. He wished that he could do something about it, too… but he knew that he couldn't.

Well, shit. This was going to hell in a hand basket.

* * *

It was late when she got back home. She sighed with relief. She was back in her quiet little cottage. It had been a hellish day. Three recommissioning jobs- those, she actually liked, five disciplinary arrests- can't those idiots not get caught? And thankfully, she hadn't run into numbuh 60 while she'd been dropping off the idiots she'd arrested.

She made herself some tea. God, she loved tea… cocking her head to the side, she grinned and she made three more cups. Paddy, Shawn and Row would be down in two minutes- as soon as the scent of tea hit the air. The first one down was the youngest of the Fulbright brood, Rowena, who looked like a younger Fran- long curly red hair, pale, freckled skin, and a sunny disposition, she was seven years old- two months younger than the supreme leader of the KND, Joey Beetles, and his second in command. The only thing that she and her sister didn't share (besides a ridiculous and completely inexplicable hatred of boys at that age) was the odd, violet color of her eyes.

Something that Fran always joked about. For some reason, all of the Fulbrights had different colored eyes. Fran's were green. Paddy's were teal, Shawn's were blue and Rows were purple. Fran always said that if their parents had any more children, one would be red eyed, one would have orange and one would have yellow. Their father had black eyes, and their mother's eyes were brown.

"Did ya make some for me?" her sister's chirpy voice sang.

"On the table, lass. How was the meetin'?"

Instantly, Fran watched those violet eyes narrow and she hissed. "Doona wanna talk about it." She snarled, the Irish accent that rarely came out with her siblings suddenly flaring to life.

Fran's eyebrow shot up. Well, that was new. Almost as bad as she had been with Patton- once upon a time. Now it was convoluted and messy…

"Uh… okay, now you're going to have to tell me."

"I don't want to." Rowena grumbled.

"Don't want to what, dear little sister?" the smooth voice of Paddy Fulbright sounded. "And for God's sake, I hope you've got some tea for your poor unfortunate brother, Fanny"

"Which one, Paddy?"

"Aw, come on, Fan- Fan…" Paddy whined.

"On the table."

"You are a tea Goddess."

"And don't ye forget it. Now take it up to yer room and leave us be, laddy." She said it dryly, and Paddy just gave her a quick smirk and a wink as he turned around and walked back up to his room, just as Shawn came down and looked at the last mug.

"Mine?" he asked. Fran grinned. "Yep." He laughed. "Cool. Thanks." She rolled her eyes, and her brother's blue eyes sparkled with an unholy light.

"What's with the look…?" She drawled dryly, an eyebrow raising as she inspected her brother.

"What look?"

"The one that says that you're going to do something evil. Like you are planning to make someone's life hell. The one I wear when I'm about to do something that's wicked and slightly vicious." She drawled it.

Shawny laughed. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yeah, sure you don't." She grumbled as he took that last cup and took it with him. "Liar…"

She turned back to Rowena. Who was trying to sneak away- while Fran was being distracted. "Ah- uh, sweetheart." She drawled.

"Sit back down and tell me what's going on."

"It's him!" she seethed "It's Joey! He's a nightmare!"

"And you're overreacting." Fran returned. "Just like I would. Control your redhead temper, Rowie. Else it'll get the best of ye."

"What, like you did?"  
"And look where it got me?" Fran snapped. "Look where I am, Love."

That, at least seemed to shut her up. Her sister looked rather embarrassed. And rightly so, she thought, as the fact that she was in a hell of a situation with her whole world.

Fran snorted darkly as she drank her tea. Rowena sighed "I'm sorry, fan- fan. I didn't mean to." Fran laughed. "I know you didn't."

"But…"

"Rowena, I swear to God, If you go on about it…." She didn't bother to finish the threat. Instead, she finished her tea, and sat down at the table. "Now, what happened?"

"It's him…. He's an arrogant jerk who can't listen to any advice matter what, he's right, and there is no in-between or compromise."

"So… let him screw up and then say I told you so."

"But…."

"But what?"

"I…" Fran raised an eyebrow.

"Okay. You're right." Rowena groaned, annoyance at the fact that Fran was right evident.

"Look, let the shit hit the fan, don't say anything. Don't give advice and don't do anything. Let him do it his way- without working behind the scenes, which I know ye do, by the way- and let him just do his own thing."

"Fine. I'll try it your way."

"Good, now homework."

"Going." Rowena went upstairs. Fanny sat down at the table, and rested her head on her hand. She had to think about what was going to happen from here, and that wasn't easy. He wasn't easy to understand. He wasn't easy to read.

In fact, the only thing he seemed to be easy with was sex. As he seemed to be very good at giving that out. To everyone.

Even, apparently her. She gave a snort at that one.

Yeah. That he was pretty damn easy with…

* * *

 _ **Well, that's another chapter done. I hope it was worth the wait. Anyway, this is kind of a two-part story…. You'll know when the first part ends.**_

 _ **Yes, this story is messy and dramatic… and let me tell you, it's been downhill and going to be even more so. anyway, please R'n'R, because it is my lifeblood.**_


	6. The Bark on The Tree

Breaker

 _ **Damn, it's a bit more difficult writing about family dynamics that are actually nice.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: Don't own anything but the plot- that includes all quotes from any song or poem or whatever.**_

Chapter 6

 _ **If only, if only, the woodpecker sighed, the bark on this tree was a little bit softer…**_

 _ **~Louis Sachar in the book Holes**_

Nigel groaned as he realized exactly what lengths he went to for his lady. And dear god, he could think of a million things that he'd rather do than go to the _fucking_ base in the _fucking_ Siberian arctic in _**fucking**_ Russia in the _**god damn**_ winter.

The things he did for Rachel….

"Numbuh 1, what're you doing here?" Pete asked. Nigel sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look, where's numbuh 60?"

"He's in his office…. I guess."

"Anyone with him in there?"

"No. He's alone."

"You make that sound like a rare occurrence…"

"Lately it's been commonplace." Peter muttered. "Which is a small miracle, honestly…"

"Dumped numbuh 14, though. Don't know why…" Pete said to his brother, and Nigel sighed. This was getting a bit annoying, honestly. He was here for one reason.

"Do either of you know what happened with numbuh 60 and number 86?" he asked, trying to break the debate with the brothers. Honestly, he was a patient guy… but this was getting ridiculous. He had other things to do, and numbuh 362 did control his sex life… as well as his rank.

"Yeah… uh sorry. We don't really know what happened- besides that fight that happened after the last time 14 came around. I can't tell you what it was about, because I don't know, all we heard was a bunch of screaming and yelling. Then, deathly silence for a few minutes, then more yelling." Pete returned.

"Seriously, we're just as curious as you are. So if you find out…"

"I am not here to gossip like a couple of old women, so I suggest you get back to your job before numbuh 60 finds out that you are." Came the crisp reply from the Brit.

The twins winced at the thought of what exactly would happen to them if their commander found out that they had been gossiping. Something told them that it wouldn't be anything as tame as mandatory re- certification training….

Nigel snorted as he turned to walk to Patton's office. Where Patton was at his desk. Writing. "That a report?"

"Figured I should get it done before my dear sweet friend who sits in the office sends the heinous witch of dubious and possible she-demon origins to my front door again, to rip my head off. That didn't go all that well the last time… and I'm really not all that keen on that happening again…."

"Yeah, about that…"

"Rachel wants you to ask me what happened." It wasn't a question, and frankly, Nigel noticed, the guy looked really, really tired. Like he hadn't gotten any sleep in days.

"Yeah. See she got Fran's story out of her. And red was pretty adamant that nothing happened- aside from a kiss. Which apparently ended with a knee to your family jewels, to which she left, and you went after her and apologized. Care to corroborate?"

"No, that's about it…. Besides her spitting something about man-whore at me…. Which I cannot deny." He drawled. "I think I let in a comment about her being a prudish bitch, too…"

"Which really makes the fact that you don't have a random girl in here all the more believeable. Jesus she did a number on you, didn't she?"

"She had a point, Nigel. That's the fuckin' problem. She was actually right about it." He paused. "And I'm pretty sure I did as much damage as I got. Possibly more. So please don't insult me by making it sound like I'm the victim."

"Yeah, so you're not gonna sleep with random girls in the TND anymore?"

"No." he sighed. "Damn it, it's hard to sleep with random girls when I just want one of 'em, and she's a volatile bitch who thinks- rightly so- that I sleep around… probably worse than your ex."

"Uh, I don't think anyone can sleep around more than Lizzie…"

"Five girls in two weeks, Nigel. And I can't really remember who they all are." He said dryly. "And that isn't even my record."

"Shit, Patton. Really, now?" Nigel snorted. "Not the monogamous one, are we."

"No. Never have been, really."

"Such a string of broken hearts." Nigel smirked.

"Uh…"

"D'you know that they have a list? They made a list on how many hearts you've broken…." Patton's eyebrow shot up.

"That is retarded."

"And no one ever said the girls you screwed were smart. In fact, Patton, it seems that you had a thing for the dumb ones…" Patton winced. "You have a point there."

"good luck making this one right…."

"Yeah right. You're laughing your ass off."

"You know I am." Nigel was now laughing outright. He sobered up quickly, though when he remembered something that the black haired teen had just said. "Are you serious about wanting 86."

"Have for a while."

"And every other girl was just…"

"Denial." Patton glared at nothing. "Which I'm still trying to stay in, because she fucking hates my guts right about now, and whose fault is that?"

"I'm going to have to say yours…. Since you kissed her right after you screwed around with 14." Nigel snorted. "Got yourself in a hell of a mess, my friend. Any idea how to get out?"

"Besides not sleeping around, you mean?"

"Well, that…. And how about a nice game of, 'Lets- _Not_ \- Piss- off- Francesca- Fulbright- Every- Time- You- See- Her'."

"Not fucking likely. I can't seem to stop myself from that particular thing. It's like a fucking high. And I can't get enough of it."

"Wow, oddly specific. You like pissing her off? Kind of self destructing, isn't it?"

Patton seemed to have nothing to say to that. He just looked the other teen in the eye and raised an eyebrow. "Tell me that there aren't times when you like seeing Rachel pissed off, Nigel."

"Yes, and usually at someone other than myself." He drawled back. "Honestly it's rather sexy when she's pissed off." Patton gave him a pointed look.

Nigel blinked and then started laughing. "right. That's the _only_ reason."

"Don't you have something better to do than this?" the black haired commander snapped, grey eyes flashing.

"Yeah, I'm going to go kiss my girlfriend." Nigel snorted, walking out the office door.

"And she wonders why men don't talk about feelings…" he muttered, as he did so.

As he left Patton to his own thoughts, the nineteen-year-old sighed. Three months, twenty days. That was all. Then, he'd be off to boot camp. He wouldn't have to deal with… whatever this was.

But for now, he did.

And as long as he did, he'd stay away from Fanny.

* * *

Nigel returned to M- Base to utter mayhem. 86 was there, and yelling at a seemingly random girl- if he'd been a betting man, he'd say that this girl was one of the many that numbuh 60 had in his harem.

"What do ya mean you lost the report, 287? How do you lose something that is supposed to be, like, 100 pages long?!"

Numbuh 287? Wasn't that the number of the operative that had written a long steamy eh, _letter_ , to numbuh 60? Nigel blinked. Oh, this was interesting. Especially since the girl looked close to crocodile tears while looking oddly smug…

"I'm sorry, 86, sir. I didn't mean to…."

"Bull shit, numbuh 287. I don't know what kind of game you're playing- oh, actually, I do. I'm not sending you to the arctic base for extra training, by the way. You will be serving your punishment here, at M- Base. Congratulations, you have just pissed me off." She stomped away.

Nigel had a hard time not laughing. He had to admit that that was entertaining. What was even funnier was that the girl – 287- was now standing in the middle of the M-Base hallway with her mouth hanging open, and she was stricken. The brunette shook his head, laughing under his breath as he went to go to Rachel's office.

Then, she turned her big, brown eyes on him. Nigel froze. Oh, shit this was going to be bad. "N-number 1…. Are you… did you hear that?" she was pouting and tears were running down her face. Well, time to turn on the cold British jerk stereotype thing….

"And that is your own fault, soldier." He said it loftily. "You really should know that she does have a brain." With that, he turned and hightailed it out of there – or, well, tried to. She started crying.

"Oh, dear god, what the hell, numbuh 287. You actually got caught in an attempt to get sent to the arctic base. Did you really think that she wouldn't catch on? Because I swear that she and R- numbuh 362 have the best 'bull shit' radars in the TND." He walked away after that, eager to get away from her.

Before she got him in trouble with Rachel, preferably.

Thankfully, he made it to Rachel's office without any other diversions of the female sort. He let out a breath as he stepped inside and was instantly ambushed with a hug by Rachel. "You're back…" she mumbled, snuggling into him. He felt his face turn red and he grinned sheepishly. "I'm back."

She instantly sobered as she looked at him. "Kay, tell." She said. "What did he say?"

"That what Fanny said was true. Also, he said that he was working on his report before you sent - and I have to quote this because it was that amazing- 'the heinous witch of dubious and posible she-demon origins' to come get it. Also, some mention of 86 calling him a man- whore and him returning by calling her a prudish bitch. So, yeah."

"And…?" Rachel asked, eyebrow raised, knowing full well that there was more to the story. Nigel sighed.

"He said that he wants her. And that he's done sleeping around. Also, he has this insane addiction to pissing her off…"

"Wait, what?" this surprised Rachel. Not the addiction to pissing Fran off, no, that she'd known- or guessed- for a while. "He wants her?"

"Honestly, I think he's in love with her." The brit returned.

"And this just got way more complicated." The blond glared at nothing in particular as she thought long and hard about what to do.

"How much more complicated are we talking?"  
"She's just as in love with him… though I think it's more lust than love for the both of them… anyway, she's like, two weeks from turning 18. So… the question is how long will they last before they jump each other?"

"Two weeks, tops."

"They've been at it this long…. Besides, she thinks he's a man- whore. And he called her a prudish little bitch." Rachel pointed out, raising a blond brow at her boyfriend.

"Okay, three weeks. Sometime before he goes off to Basic Training." Nigel returned. "But I'm not going to put a bet on it. They're notoriously stubborn people."

"She's thinking about becoming a cop." Rachel said quietly. "And so am I."

Nigel sighed and held her closer. "Well, I am as well… but seriously, we're only thinking about these types of jobs because they're close to what we're used to. Close to what we've been doing since day one."

"Are we going to be okay? Are they?"

"I don't know, Rachel."

* * *

Patton finally got home after yet another hellish day… okay, not hellish. More annoying than hellish. He made a face. The 44 twins were starting to really piss him off. His thoughts continued to turn darker and darker as he walked into the kitchen.

His mother stood at the sink, peeling potatoes, and he couldn't help but grin.

Nadia Drilovski, a native of Ukraine was more of a drill instructor herself than she was a housewife. As a military wife, and as a mother of three active children, she still looked younger than most, the only real signs of aging were the silver strands in her long, wavy, black as soot hair, and lines of worry and laughter around her eyes.

Her small, slim build was a throwback to the ballerina that she had been. The woman who'd fallen in love with a half Polish, half Russian American soldier while on a work visa that allowed her to dance in New York.

She could- and did- speak fluently in all four languages. Her temper was as hot as the fires of hell when riled. And not a day went by when her family were not the center of her life.

" _Pryvit, mamochka(1)_." He spoke in Ukrainian. She turned, and a smile lit her face. She stopped what she was doing and danced across the kitchen to her second eldest.

" _Laskavo prosymo nazad, miy malenʹkyy khlopchyk(2)_." She murmured as she hugged her son. Though he dwarfed her by a good one foot, two inches, they all knew who was the boss.

"where's dad?" Patton asked.

Nadia rolled her golden brown eyes at her son. "He's in his shop, dear." She grinned. "Making me a bookshelf."

"Didn't he do that a month ago?" Patton asked, an identical grin on his face.

"I need a new one. Go help. I have not enough shelves for my books."

"Yes, mom." He trudged outside to go help his father. In more snow. The little outbuilding where his father played with wood was an original part of the property, which was Victorian styled, over 100 years old, and very renovated. By Dimitri, Leon, and Patton- with a little help from the youngest of the crew, Maria.

"Hey, dad." He called.

Dimitri Drilovski came out. At twenty- five years Patton's senior, he looked only like a more distinguished (and that is really the only word that comes to mind) version of Patton and Leon. From the grey eyes, the now silver- shot black hair and large, muscled build. He grinned as he saw his son.

"Pat, there you are. I was wondering." He drawled. "Come help."

"Mom already told me to do that."

"You look like you could use the work."

"And so I could." Patton drawled.

"Girl trouble, again, my son?"

"Again would imply that I'd worked it out once before. Which I haven't. Not by a long damn shot." Patton grumbled, taking up a chisel and a hammer, ands starting on the scrollwork that his mother was partial to.

Dimitri looked at his son pityingly. He knew well what was going on between his son and the, quote, 'vicious redheaded viper' that he- once upon a time- called his best friend.

"There is only one of two things to do with a girl like that, Patton."

"And what's that, dad?"

"Marry her, or get the hell away from her. I suggest the first, because you'll never meet a girl like her again."

"Dad, I'm almost twenty. She's almost 18. And I don't know if I can put up with her for long enough to actually get on 'good' terms with her. Whatever that means with a girl like her."

Dimitri laughed. Loudly. "I know. It's been like that since you two were ten." He snorted.

Patton felt his face heat up a bit. "Shut up, dad…" he muttered, no longer willing to talk about his problems. There were so many other things he could be doing other than listening to his father laughing at his problems.

"Patton…" Dimitri sighed, shaking his head at his son. "You should know how to handle women…"

"Every single one, it seems, but her."

"So it seems, kid."

They lapsed into silence as they continued working on the bookshelf.

Four hours later, they stopped for the night, and headed back to the house. Patton trudged to the shower at his mother's insistence- because apparently, he smelled like the wrong side of a cow. He stood under the spray, deep in thought.

He'd noticed that it was only around his family that he had complete control over his temper- was completely comfortable… and well, content with everything. At the TND, he was a hard ass, and his temper was lousy. At school, he was just trying to graduate so he could get the hell out. As it was, there was one month of school left, and he was passing all of his classes. At his job, he was stressed out most of the time- but that was mostly because his co-workers were complete idiots for the most part.

And with Fanny…. He was a complete and total bastard. He couldn't seem to get himself to stop. Patton snorted as he dried himself off and pulled on his pajama pants. It was, he figured, going to be another long, sleepless night.

Well, he'd try and go to sleep after dinner. Maybe he'd get more sleep if he actually tried to sleep…

Yeah, no. He lay awake, at 1:00 am, glaring at the ceiling, unable to get back to sleep, unable to do anything but sit there, in the dark, in silence that seemed to be closing in on him, until he grabbed his phone from his bedside table, and put on his music. He sighed as he settled back in, rock music blaring through the headphones.

He finally fell asleep for good about an hour later. Back into restless, reckless, and impossible dreams.

* * *

 _She stood in front of him, a rare smile curving her lips. "Ye're back, are ye, then, Patton?" she whispered. She patted the ground beside her in invitation. She looked at him expecting him to sit. He stood. She huffed, and yanked on his arm. "Sit, Patton, there's no use for ye to be standing up."_

 _He let himself be yanked down, and stared at the figment of his own imagination. "You're back. I've never left." He said it quietly._

" _I've never left." She gave an oddly bitter smile. "I've been right here, waiting for you. As I always have been." She looked out over the building where they were sitting. He realized that they were at M-Base, then, in the hangar, feet hanging over the side of a staircase._

"Y _ou've left a few times, Fan-Fan. More than I have." He replied_

" _And who started the walking, Patton? Do ye even remember?" She snapped, green eyes narrowing at him. "Because the last time I checked, that was you,_ boyo _…"_

" _Did you really just call me boyo? What the hell, Fanny?"_

 _She raised an eyebrow. "After that whole conversation, the thing that gets yer goat is the fact that I called ye 'boyo'. Wow, Patton, just wow."_

 _He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Can you really blame me for that, Fanny. I'm a guy. I have pride."_

" _Aye, that, I know, and a bunch of it, as well. So much of it that ye threw away your friend because yer pride was hurt. I was hurt more, you know." She said it coolly. He winced. She was right about that, too. But at the same time, "You walked away as well, Fan-Fan. I wasn't the only one."_

" _Aye, I did, only after you did, and look where this has gotten us, Patton. Ye attacked me- and don't say you didn't, because yes, you did- in yer office out of frustration."_

" _And that was because I lost what semblance of control I had- which was caused by your insistent screaming in my fucking ear. I think I'm partially deaf because of you."_

" _No, ye aren't. Yer overreacting, ye are…" she sighed suddenly. "and here we go again, starting to argue, and it's no' even real…. Are we seriously doing this? Now?"_

" _We could kiss and make up…" Patton drawled, sarcasm dripping from his tone._

" _Aye, this is a dream after all…." She muttered. "It's no' like it counts."_

" _This whole fight wouldn't count then." He returned._

" _Argument. The last fight we had is something that I'd like to forget."_

" _Why, because I kissed you?"_

" _After you finished screwing numbuh 14. You kissed me right after you'd finished…" she didn't finish that sentence. She didn't have to. He gave an odd, almost crazed laugh. "That's what pissed you off? Not the fact that I kissed you, but that I did it after I'd finished screwing 14…"_

" _And that is reason enough. Ye made me feel like a cheap floozy. It's not funny." She snapped._

" _It's funny because I wanted you as soon as you walked through the door…" self-deprecating laughter came out, and he couldn't really control it. Dear god, admitting that to himself was easy. At least in dreamland._

" _What?" Her eyes went wide; her hands went limp. Her face went even whiter than usual- lending her the appearance of a fey ghost._

" _you heard me, Fanny."_

" _You'd just…"_

" _Doesn't seem to matter. As soon as you walk through the door…. It doesn't seem to matter how many girls I fuck. I still end up wanting you. As soon as I see you."_

 _She was silent for a few minutes. "Then what's the point of screwing every girl in sight?" she whispered._

" _Denial."_

" _Heh, no' just a river in Egypt." She was unsteady, he noticed. He said nothing, refusing to say another word. Just then, anyway… she lapsed into silence as well, not knowing, apparently what to say._

 _They sat in silence for a while._

" _I've stopped." He said, after a while._

" _What?"_

 _He sighed. "I stopped doing it. I figure… I'm not exactly going to be here for much longer. I figure I should grow up a little- in that aspect…"_

" _Really."_

" _No use going after someone I don't want."_

 _The last thing that he heard from her was a snort of laughter._

* * *

Patton yawned as he woke up for the second time. This time, though, it was light out- or, well, as light as it can get in January, in the Rocky Mountains… on the outskirts of Denver. He yawned, as his mother called him downstairs.

By the time he got downstairs, though all that he had time to eat was a piece of toast on his way out to the truck. Maria slipped in the passenger seat beside him.

" _Dzień dobry(3)_ , Patton." She yawned, like all of the Drilovski clan, the Polish fell naturally out of her mouth.

" _Tak(4)._ " He muttered.

" _dostałeś spać w nocy(5)_?"

"Actually, yeah. I did. Speak in English. I'm tired still."

"no fun." Maria pouted.

"My tired speak is Russian, you know that. _YA tozhe odin za rulem, tak chto imet' delo s nim(6)_." He yawned.

" _szarpnięcie(7)_." She muttered.

"Don't call me a jerk, _otrod'ye(8)._ "

"Don't call me a brat."

"You started this, _mladshaya sestra(9)."_

"Bite me, Patton."

He laughed as he dropped her off at her middle school, and as he drove himself to his own school. Where he spent the rest of the day in an 'educational' haze of teachers and idiots that he had to share the fucking world with.

* * *

 _ **Okay, so, I have a bit of a rant to get off my chest here. It started with a comment that I got on one of my other stories a while ago- that I just caught wind of a few days ago- simply because it's an older story of mine and I haven't checked them in a while…. So I'm sorry to all of you nicer people because this particular flame that I got really pissed me off. To all parents who catch their underage kids on the internet: First of all, I posed a fucking rating for a god damned reason. It's there, I warned you about it. Multiple times, in fact. If you are one of these parents- especially the ones who like to wine about this- then put parental controls on the computer, because I am not Hollywood, and I don't give a fuck. I am not to blame for your bad parenting.**_

 _ **Again, this is not pointed at most of you, it just really pisses me off. So, I'm sorry for anyone I've pissed off with this… As always, Read and Review, tell me what you think. Peace Out.**_

 _ **anyway, so this is the translation (And what languages they're in)**_

 _ **(1)Hi, Mom- Ukrainian**_

 ** _(2)welcome home, my little boy- Ukrainian-[or something like that... google's not good at un-translating translated sentances]_**

 ** _(3) Good morning- Polish_**

 ** _(4) yeah- Russian and Ukrainian_**

 ** _(5)did you get any sleep- Polish_**

 ** _(6)something about the fact that he's driving her to school. Sorry, google translate is stupid._**

 ** _(7)jerk- polish_**

 ** _(8)brat- Russian_**

 ** _(9) little sister- Russian_**


	7. We Ought To Know By Now

_**Okay, don't kill me. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. And it's a short chapter, too… shorter than usual. I had problems logging into FF for the last few days. It would've been up sooner. Anyway, hope you enjoy**_.

Breaker

Chapter 7

 _We're going down. And you can see it, too. We're going down, and you know that we're doomed. My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room… don't you think we ought to know by now? Don't you thing we should've learned by now?_

 _ **~Slow Dancing in a Burning Room- John Mayer**_

* * *

It was getting worse. No, beyond worse…. It was getting unbearable. She couldn't think of how to stop it. Two months ago, this shit started, two months ago, she had managed to avoid it. Avoid him. Avoid the charge of energy she seemed to get when he was around. What was worse was the fact that he seemed to know…

And that pissed her off. Majorly. She didn't want to have to handle it. She wanted to run away. Far away. Right back to her comfy little cottage at the edge of the forest. She wanted to stay there until he was gone.

But, her pride wouldn't allow that. In fact, it insisted that she tough it out (like it usually would). She bared her teeth in annoyance. The poor kid who had been going down the M-Base hallway in the opposite direction saw it, and whimpered. The look was scary- and that was something that she knew all too well. She'd spent years- literally years- cultivating that look. She'd used it more as a KND operative. Not so much now- unless she was interrogating someone, or getting pissed at her siblings, or her own operatives. Something like that.

"With that look, you could kill innocent kittens and puppies." Peppermint and chocolate invaded her senses. She held back a scream. She couldn't hold back the shudder.

She whipped around, and came face to face- or rather, face to chest- with the object of her ire. "What're ye doin' here?" she hissed. "Don't ye have somethin' better to do?"

Turns out, if you even _think_ of the Devil, he'll appear.

"I came to turn in a report." He muttered. Her green eyes widened. "Is it hailing in hell? _You_? Turn in a report? _Without_ someone having to bug you about it a million times?"

"I can get my work done. Plenty of time to do so now." His tone was stiff. She frowned. Since when did he sound like that.

Not that she was anyone to talk. She'd been covering up her discomfort with bravado for the last few minutes. She backed up a bit, feeling boxed in, even if there was nothing behind her. His own eyes narrowed. "You don't have to do that. I'm not going to attack you again." He snarled.

"I'm not worried about that. You couldn't if you tried." And why in the holy hell was she baiting him? _Again_? That didn't go so well last time. "I can- and do- take care of myself."

"And don't I know it." Why was he letting her bait him? Did he want to suffer later? He ground his teeth together, and clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. She noticed. He noticed the flash of fear in her eyes, right before she covered it up with her usual temper.

And he felt like scum all over again. Well, fuck. He looked her dead in the eyes, and saw her blink, then what he had said seemed to sink in. Her eyes flashed, annoyance and anger made themselves known. She glared at him.

"For pity's sake, lad, don't ye think I know that? I don't know what kind of madness possessed ye last time, but ye've never done that before, and I have no reason to think that ye'll be doin' it again."

His own eyes narrowed. In a flash, she was against the wall- once again, his arms trapping her. He leaned down until his face was a breath away from hers, and she felt her breath stop. "Don't. Ever. _Think_. That. You. Are. Safe, number 86. You're not. You're the least safe. I can't _fucking_ control myself around you. Temper- wise or self-control wise. You are not safe around me."

"And ye just said that ye wouldn't attack me." She hissed.

"I did, and then you baited me. Oh, I know you did, so take that look off of your face. You were baiting me, and you know it."

So he had realized. She frowned, and pushed at him. It was like trying to move a brick wall. "P- er, numbuh 60, did ye forget that we're in the hallway? Get the hell off of me." She snarled, her spine though, tingled with fear. Her senses were alert, and she felt… something that she didn't want to feel.

"Spare me, 86. I can see your eyes. You're scared of me."

"I am no-"

"Yes, you are. And that, Francesca, gives _me_ the power. Damn, you must hate that. Oh, and by the way, the 'madness' that 'possessed' me was my own fault, I knew it was at that time, and I did apologize for it, and yes, it caused one hell of a cluster-fuck, but you were right there with me, and don't forget that, _Kochanie_."

He let her go, and he walked away.

She stood there, for five full minutes, wondering what the hell had just happened, because he'd never, never done that before. He'd pushed her out of her comfort zone of yelling and screaming and sarcasm, among other things, and he'd put her in a state of total confusion. With that small side of trepidation tingling along her spine.

It was a heady combination. One that she was sure that she didn't like. And he probably knew that. She shivered. Her heart was still pounding in her chest like a jackhammer. Dear god, what was going on, here?

Did she really want the answer to that question?

She snorted. Hell no, she didn't. Because she already knew it, and she could go her whole life ignoring it… hell, she'd already spent half that much time deluding herself that she wasn't in love with him, hadn't she? No, more than half.

She frowned. How long had it been, exactly? She'd been a lonely four year old girl who'd joined the KND to find something akin to family- besides her absent, glory- and- scandal loving mother, her never there, bent-on-destroying-kid kind father, and her (at the time) two-year old and infant brothers.

She'd needed solidarity. She'd found it in a best friend (and honorary sister), and… well, him. At the time, as a four-year-old, she only thought of him as a really nice (which honestly wasn't the norm for her) six-year-old- with the prettiest silver eyes that she'd ever seen.

It wasn't until she, herself was six that she realized that she felt more for the boy than friendship… She let out a self- deprecating laugh as she recalled the memory.

While most girls at the age of six only daydreamed those absolutely corny fantasies of white knight in shining armor, slaying dragons for their 'one- true-love', and the like, while the normal girls were dreaming of the day that they would fall in love, she'd actually realized that she was in love.

And that, she remembered, had scared the ever living shit out of her. She hadn't seen him as her white knight on a white horse in shining armor (besides the fact that she liked the black knights and the rogues in the first place), she 'd seen him as he was.

A little boy who had a better family life than she (even with a military dad that was deployed at the time) could have ever hoped to have, someone who actually took the time to get to know her. She had loved him with all of the emotion that her six-year-old heart had to give, and then, that terrible fight happened….

She couldn't even remember what it had been about…. But it had ended their friendship. It had broken her heart 

* * *

He should really invest in a self- check system for his own mouth. Every time he saw numbuh 86, he ended up pissed off and pulling his foot out. He sighed. He wondered if she had the same notions as he. Though, this time, she had started the fight-no, argument…

Argument that had ended up with him pinning her against the wall and nearly attacking her- again. Why was dealing with her so frustrating? He could deal with any other girl in the world… but her…. Dear god, he just couldn't see an end to it.

The look on his face was the first thing that his father commented on when he walked into the shop. "Patton, if you look at that poor Harley like that for any longer than you have been, it might become a piece of twisted, melting metal that's unfit to ride." His voice was dry as he observed his son.

"Sorry." He grunted.

Dimitri sighed, understanding on his face as he sat next to his son. "Ah."

"What?"

"You got into it again, with Francesca, didn't you?"

Patton glared, and immediately went back to working on the bike.

"Don't want to talk about it, yet, do you, son?"

"No. I really don't." Patton grumbled. Dimitri just nodded, his expression turning into a thoughtful one. "You know, Patton, you can't ever move on if you don't deal with what's already happened in the past." He stated.

Patton looked up at his father. Did he know something that he didn't? well, that was a stupid question. Of course he did.

* * *

Fanny sighed again. She seemed to be doing a lot of that, lately. She also seemed to be drinking more tea than usual lately. The redhead sighed as she turned on her computer and immediately put it on her playlist.

She grinned. It had every genre that she could possibly like- though not as much rap- and that was simply because she didn't like rap as much as some other people did. That is not to say that she didn't have any, just… like five songs that she could stand.

As she cleaned her house, she thought long and hard about her serious thing about getting numbuh 60 mad.

Did she really like baiting him that much? She growled at the stupidity of that statement. Why on earth would she like baiting him? Baiting him was like baiting a hungry wolf.

"You okay, Fan-Fan?" she turned around to see Rowena frowning at her, struggling to gauge her mood. Fanny gave the younger, purple eyed girl a wan grin. "I'm fine, Rowie. Just trying to figure out why I'm doing stupid things."

"Did you get into another argument with numbuh 60 or something?" the smaller Fulbright girl cocked her head to the side, confusion on her face.

Fanny looked away, ashamed of herself.

"She started it this time." Paddy came through to the kitchen.

Fanny groaned again. "Dear Dagda, stop it…"

" _Cén fáth go mbeadh liom a dhéanamh nuair a bhfuil sé chomh spraoi a fheiceáil do imoibriú_?(1)" Paddy murmured. His bright, teal gaze settled on his older sister, a thoughtful look on his face. " _Thairis sin_ , ní mór duit duine éigin a dhéanamh, dar leat ciontach faoi (2)..."

" _Is dóigh liom cheana nó sí ciontach go leor gan do chabhair. saoire dom a bheith(3)."_ She muttered. Her brother shrugged, then smirked.

"Whatever you say, big sister." He drawled, then exited the kitchen.

"If you don't like fighting with him so much, why don't you just apologize? You can do it over the phone, you know…" Rowena frowned.

Fanny snorted. "Eh, how much do ye apologize to Joey?"

The smaller girl glared. Her amethyst eyes sparkling with annoyance. " _He_ is the one who starts it. Besides, you told me to let him do it the way he wants." She grinned evilly. "It's not going well for him. He'll be admitting it soon. And I'll be right there to tell him 'I told you so'."

"Unless he blames it on you."

"As much of a jerk as he is, most wouldn't put it past him. But, he's never blamed me for his mistakes before, so I haven't got a reason to think that he'll do it this time."

"You say that now…." Muttered Fanny.

Rowena shrugged, and resumed eating.

Fanny sighed and finished making her tea. She went to her room, and shut the door. She put her back to the wood and sighed. What possessed her to start a fight with him?

Oh, right. The thrill. She was beginning to think that she was a masochist…. She made a face as she sipped her tea again.

* * *

 _ **Okay, it's a bit shorter than usual… and for that, I am sorry. But I hope you enjoyed what there was of this chapter. Here are your translations…**_

(1) Why would I do when it's so fun to see your reaction

(2) Besides, you need someone to make you feel guilty about

(3) I already feel guilty enough without your help. leave me be


	8. Take a Breath

**I still don't own anything. Not the song, not a majority of the characters. Not the Show. If I did, I wouldn't be a broke college kid.**

 **Sorry for the long wait... i honestly got a little blocked... and worried about this one. it's the... climax... after all (and yes, that pun was intended...) there's a warning as to when the really Lemony stuff happens... as this is my first true lemon (I don't count the FWTG series as i never really go into intimate detail... and those might be taken down sometime soon.) So be warned. graphic lemon. in this chapter. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

 _Take a breath, don't it sound so easy? Never had a doubt, now I'm going crazy watching from the floor. Take a breath and let the rest come easy never settle down_

 _ **~All Time Low- Dear Maria Count Me In**_

 _Two months to go…._

The thought played on a reel as he walked through the NS base. Over and over and over and well, the point was there. He hadn't seen her- and hadn't heard from her in two weeks, and he found himself wondering why he was keeping track.

He didn't _want_ to keep track.

That, at least, was what he kept telling himself. IT was true, to a point… however, that didn't stop some small (traitorous) part of his mind from doing it anyway.

"Wow, bro, forget resting bitch face, I think that's resting murder face. I thought only 86 could pull that off, but I guess that I'm wrong…." His sister's voice sounded from behind him. He whirled around to see Maria, who was accompanied by Shawn Fulbright.

They seemed to be inseparable these days.

His gunmetal grey eyes narrowed. As a reaction, his sister's oil-slick blue eyes did the same, knowing what was going through her brother's head right at that time.

"Don't even." She hissed.

he shrugged, and walked away. He'd been pissy lately. At least, according to the talk around base. Personally, he thought that there had been times where he was so much worse.

He had his self-imposed celibacy to thank as one of the main reasons for his lousy- ass temper, and no one really bothered with that. Well, okay, that wasn't true… but he didn't want to touch on the people (every unattached strait or bi female… as well as the dudes who were apparently after him as well) who _did_ bother with it.

Honestly, it had never bothered him quite this much to be hit on.

And it was only worse when she was around. Because she'd get that look… the one that said: _there he goes again…_

And that was the main factor that was causing this sheer amount of vicious temper that seemed to be spewing out of every pore. She'd get that look, and suddenly, he'd want to go and pin her to the wall. Again.

Because he still hadn't gotten the last time out of his head.

He still wanted her, and he had the feeling that wouldn't change for a _long_ time.

"Honestly, numbuh 60, I really think that it's time for a chat with my sister." Shawn said it dryly. "Both of you are bitchier than usual, and you're scaring the kids from the KND. Actually, the two of you are scaring everyone."

Patton glared at the boy who was holding his younger sister's hand. "You and I obviously need to have a bit of a chat. Later though. I'm busy."

Paddy snorted. "Yeah. I know," he said as he walked away.

He made it to the moon base fairly quickly. Honestly, with so much time and so little to do, he should just go home and take some time off.

* * *

 _ **Two Months Later…**_

Tomorrow was the day. And then he'd be free of her for (possibly) the rest of his life. He'd finally be shot of the whole fucked up thing that they'd had going for the last 13 years. Patton couldn't help but savor the moments.

And she'd find someone else. His eye twitched. He knew that she would… eventually… and yet…

The thought of someone else touching her made him want to hurl. She would find someone else, someone who would probably be a complete doormat (he couldn't control the hiss of anger), and she would move on. He sneered. Poor sob. He actually pitied the idiot who was going to end up with the harpy. He couldn't stop snickering at the thought.

"Ye seem to be in a rather cheery mood…"

Every single muscle in his body tensed. His blood rushed down and his vicious laughter was caught in his throat. _Why was she here?_

He turned around, and barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping. His brain short- circuited. She looked… different. Delicious. He inwardly groaned. Her long, curly red hair was tied back- like she used to do right before she had turned over to the TND- in a bun. She'd somehow tamed it enough to put it in the messy up-do. Her green eyes were outlined in black, some confusing female secret that he'd noticed most girls used. She frowned, her red- slicked lips turned down in a frown.

She was dressed differently, too. The little black dress (though it could hardly be considered that) was a high- necked halter top, and the hem stopped at mid- thigh, hugging her curves and showcasing her pale, beautiful, mile- long legs. Did her father actually _let_ her dress like that? She seemed taller too.

She was wearing heels. A pair of blood red four inch heels that only served to make his mouth water.

"What are you doing here, 86?" he growled.

He did not notice her shiver.

"I…" she cleared her throat. "I came to get Shawn…" she muttered. He shrugged.

"Just left." He grunted, motioning to the right, where the younger teen had passed. She nodded, and started walking that way. He seized up as she passed and he caught her scent… and barely held back a pathetic moan.

She smelled different too. A dark, floral scent… definitely roses, but more…. He frowned. She smelled like a wild midnight garden. And it was driving him insane.

It took him seconds to realize that she'd always smelled like that… she'd just seemed to enhance it.

In that instance, he snapped. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into his office. He shoved her in, slammed the door, and proceeded to shove her against it. His eyes were almost mad. She was maddening. Their noses were inches apart and he was gasping for air, trying to control himself. "What the _hell_ are you wearing?" he hissed. "Are you _trying_ to drive me insane?"

She shuddered, and licked her lips. His eyes zeroed in on her mouth. "I… Its…. I didn't want to, but… my father…" She muttered. Trying, and failing to look away. "He's hosting a dinner party and it is mandatory for me to show up…" she muttered. "Paddy and Shawn as well…"

His hands, of their own accord ghosted down her sides to grip her hips. "Patton… let me go." She whispered. The effect was instantaneous. He dropped her, and stepped back. It was in that moment that he made a startling discovery… He'd never make it that long. He wanted her now.

* * *

It wasn't as if she wanted to walk all over the place in this ridiculous do. She hated dresses in the first place, her hair was a pain in the ass to tame, she didn't wear makeup all that often, and she absolutely, positively _hated_ high- heels.

It was all her parents' fault. Sure, she didn't live with them anymore, but that didn't mean that she didn't have to- and quote- 'make a good impression to help daddy with work' she snorted and rolled her eyes.

Of course, she didn't have to suffer alone. Not when she had two little brothers and a little sister- all of whom lived with her… but still. She glared at nothing in particular. She had heard Rowena talking on a transmitter to her commanding officer. She'd heard the fight, and she sighed.

Rowe's relationship with Joey Beetles was getting to be way too similar to her own relationship with Patton Drilovski. The only difference was that Patton had never been her boss. _Would_ never be her boss. He'd never had the power to order her around.

She shuddered at the thought… and then her mind decided to take a turn for the worst. She went red as the images that her mind produced quickly turned X- rated. What the hell?

Then she remembered. She was a teenager. Right. Hormones. They were a thing… and he was rather attractive. Way too attractive.

For anyone's good.

She'd heard the dark laughter as she rounded the corner of the NS base and frowned. Patton Drilovski himself stood there, looking in between disgust, fury, and sneering humor. Best mood she'd seen him in since that day in the hallway.

Where he'd told her to beware the dog.

She snorted at that. He didn't seem to hear it. For which she was thankful for. However, now she was pressed against a door, and he was touching her, and she couldn't think at all. Thank god he stopped when she'd asked him too.

Big, red Danger signs were flashing in her mind's eye and she

couldn't help but think… god, here we go…

" _Bozhe moy, ty prekrasna(1)…"_ he muttered.

She knew enough about languages to know that it was Russian he spoke, and enough about herself to know that it was his voice, as well as the words that made her tremble.

She spoke back, though she used her grandmother's language- the all- but- dead language. " _Tá mé ag tosú ag smaoineamh go bhfuil fhriotú duit ina chúis caillte(2)…"_

He blinked, frowned and cocked his head to the side. "What language was that? I've never heard it."

Fran shuddered as his breath hit her neck. "I-it's Irish G-Gaelic. Ye wouldn't have heard it… it's n-nearly a dead language. Most don't use it anymore."

"What did you say?"

"I'm not telling ye what I said. The whole point of my sayin' it in a different language is so that ye _don't_ understand. Much like you speakin' in Russian."

That shut him up. And then, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Fanny." He muttered. She frowned.

"Sorry for wha-"

She was cut off as he captured her lips with his. She froze up, and then, she melted. Her hands went around his neck, and she let him control the kiss.

Her mind was in chaos. He was doing it again. He was kissing her, and she wasn't stopping him. How could she, though? When she wanted this just as much as him? He was controlling the kiss, and she didn't care.

He was playing her like a puppet and she couldn't find it in herself to stop him. His arms wrapped her in a vice grip and held her to his chest as he tasted her. The unique flavor of this one girl had trapped him in.

His hands gripped her waist, and he hitched her up, until she wrapped her long, slim legs around his waist. He pressed her further into the wall one hand on her backside helping to steady her, the other slid over her thigh, caressing the skin.

She tasted like her favorite tea- which he knew to be bohea tea. Smokey and bittersweet. She must have had a cup before getting there.

She was melting. The fire was too much to take as he slipped his tongue in her mouth. She felt herself deteriorate. Her mind fractured. And she made a low sound in her throat. Peppermint and chocolate surrounded her.

She should be doing something…. But she couldn't remember. She had come to the NS base for a reason…

Dinner…

She gasped. She was late.

She shoved against his chest, which, though ineffective in moving him at all, did make him break the kiss. Both were panting. There were no words for what had just happened. She was gasping for breath, and neither one of them had even wanted to stop.

All that besides, Patton was glad that she had stopped it. He let her down. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't regret that, though.

He would have taken her on the table if she hadn't. The madness had almost gotten a hold on him, and even now, he was fighting to keep it back.

"I… Dinner. I need to find…."

"Yeah. I know." He gasped it.

She turned toward the door. Then turned back to him. "I…I didn't want to stop…" she whispered, face going red, and then she disappeared through the door of his office.

He froze.

Fuck.

How was he supposed to keep his damn hands to himself when she said shit like that? He slumped on his desk, running his hands through his hair. He was in deep trouble… and there was no major bad guy to keep him occupied.

He shook his head, trying to clear the hazy thoughts and second old memories of her wrapped around him. He groaned as he felt his body harden at the thought. Dear god, now he needed a cold shower. His uncontrollable thoughts whispered insidious thoughts in his head. _She's eighteen, now…._ He sucked in a breath.

Shit.

He needed to see her….

 _Now._

He left his office in disarray, an odd sort of desperation taking over, and he nearly forgot that she wasn't at her home at the edge of the forest, but was at a dinner party in Cleveland. He snarled, but grabbed a suit out of his office closet. He'd change on the way there.

* * *

Fanny could not concentrate on the dinner let alone the conversation that was happening around her. She sat, contemplating the food silently, the only thing that she was thankful for was the multitude of people sitting around her- with one exception.

The young man sitting next to her- the son of one of her father's business partners, she was sure. The type that got what he wanted- or threw a giant temper tantrum like a two-year-old if he didn't. She glared as she tried to scoot her chair farther away from him.

She noticed her mother watching her like a hawk, waiting for the young woman to fuck up somehow so she could report out her sob story, but the younger red-head couldn't care less at the moment. If this stupid, spoiled little jackass kept up his current act, she was going to deck him.

She could already tell that he was more than a little drunk. When he asked her to dance (she grimaced, but took his hand, anyway), she saw her mother pout in disappointment. Typical Miranda Fulbright. She rolled her eyes covertly, and proceeded to the dance floor with the pampered prince of pompous prissiness.

She felt her stomach drop in disgust as his hand- which was supposed to be _on her waist_ slipped farther down to her ass, and she glared at him, the gold ring in her eyes seemed to glow with anger. "Get yer hand up or ye won't like what I do."

He sneered, and kept his hand where it was, adding a squeeze to it, she snarled and went to slap him, but another hand grabbed her wrist. She gasped, and her head jerked around to see who had grabbed her.

Her body melted. Her lips parted and she found it rather difficult to breathe right then. His eyes glittered with temper, the same color as the silver necklace she wore as he tugged her out of her dance partner's grasp. "I believe the lady said to let her go." His voice was quiet, a shocking difference from the icy fury carved into his face.

He looked dangerous, and Francesca just couldn't resist that.

"I don't believe that we asked for your help, Mr…?"

"Drilovski. Patton Drilovski. And I don't believe that I care, jackass. Keep your hands _off_ her." He hissed. He did not give the other party a chance to retaliate as he swept her away into a waltz. She looked up at him, the mix of emotions she felt at that exact moment all boiled down to one.

Lust.

However, when his silver eyes met her green ones, she felt her blood freeze. She could tell he was dangerously angry, and she nearly whimpered at the effect his gaze had on her.

"Did he do anything else besides grab your ass?" he growled.

Mutely, she shook her head. The fire she usually possessed when it came to him seemed to shut down, and she could feel his touch searing her skin through the thin material of her dress. Her cheeks grew pink, her breath shortened, she felt too hot, her body seemed more sluggish… and that was just the start of her symptoms.

He sneered over her head at the young man as they danced. Fury was an understatement to what he had felt when he walked into the ballroom and saw Fanny dancing with the prick. Jealousy erupted inside of him, and the only color he could see was red. Now, he felt the beast calm a bit as he held her deceptively small form in his arms.

He gripped her waist a bit too tight for comfort as he yanked her back to his body. His head lowered, until his lips were near her ear. She almost moaned as his cool, peppermint and chocolate breath tickled her ear.

"You. Are. _Mine_." He snarled. He took a moment to brush his lips against her ear, and in a blatant show of ownership to those watching (or, actually, only the miserable bastard she'd been dancing with), he nipped at her ear. She tried desperately to hide her reaction, and failed spectacularly. She sagged in his arms and whimpered.

Dear god, she was gone.

He chuckled. "How fast can we get the hell out of here?" he murmured.

It took a minute for her to actually form a coherent sentence. "Is my mother looking over here?"

He murmured the negative and spun her out, then back in, changing from the rough, jealous lover to the genteel young man. She looked around while she had the chance. NO one was paying attention to them anymore… not even the boy she'd been dancing with not two minutes ago.

He seemed to have cut his losses.

"I can leave now… we've already eaten… I fulfilled my duty to my father. Let me go tell Paddy… he'll need to get himself, Shawn and Rowena home."

"Do that. I'll be waiting outside. He murmured, drawing away from her. She shuddered and he seemed to vanish.

On shaky legs, she walked to her brother, handing him her car keys, giving him a whispered excuse, and a fake ride. He nodded, none the wiser to what was going on, too busy with the golden opportunity to test out his new license that his elder sister had handed to him.

He wouldn't realize until much later. She gave her stiffly polite farewells to her parents and excused herself. Her stomach was tying itself in knots. Her body was far too hot and cold at the same time, she was trembling as she contemplated just what it was she was about to do.

He was waiting for her outside the gala hall that her father had rented, leaning up against one of the many pillars, looking like a modern Heathcliff. His eyes were shadowed by his black hair as he watched her.

With a small smirk, he held out his hand. "Tell me you want this."

She felt her voice catch in her throat. She tried to talk, but it didn't happen. She took his hand, instead, hoping for him to get the drift of what she was saying.

He shook his head, even as he pulled her close. "Tell me you want this, Francesca… or it won't happen." She gaped at him. Still charged from both the dance they had just shared and their earlier kiss. She tried to speak again, this time, she succeeded.

She could only get one word out. "Yes…"

He kept her hand, and led her away from the entrance of the ballroom. His C.O.O.L.B.U.S was there, and he dragged her against him for another searing kiss as they got inside. Once again, he lifted her up, and she wound her legs around him

He backed up, getting to the controls. He broke away long enough to get to the computer. "Where?" he hissed. She was barely able to stutter out the coordinates of her cottage.

She didn't think about her siblings who would be home in a few hours, nor did she think about any consequences that could spring from this. All she knew was that she wanted him… and she didn't think they would even make it to her house.

He yanked her back on top of him, his hand fisted in her now messy curls, dragging her head down to his once more. Her knees were on either side of his legs, as she knelt over his sitting form, his other hand running down her back. Her own arms wound around his head, clenching in his hair and shoulder as he nipped at her bottom lip. She gasped at the sting. He shoved his tongue in her mouth, kissing her harder. Her nails dug into his shoulder, and he could hardly feel the pain as the hand on her back ran down, sliding over her backside. She whimpered in his mouth as his skin made contact with the skin of her thigh.

He smirked into her mouth as his hand traveled under her dress.

She barely heard the ding, telling them that they'd reached their destination, didn't know until he stood, taking her with him as he walked into her house.

* * *

 _ **XXXXX- LEMON PUDDING AHEAD -XXXXXX**_

"Which way?" He whispered, She gasped, and pointed in a vague direction. He chuckled, and nipped her ear again. "Doesn't answer my question, Fan-Fan…" he murmured, licking the flesh that he'd just bitten.

"F-first door on the right, upstairs." She gasped.

He was still in control enough to wait to strip her until he'd closed the door to her room. After that, however, her dress- that short, little, hell disguised as fabric was ripped off her and thrown to the floor. In equal frenzy, she shoved his jacket off his shoulders, and fought with his tie as he peppered her neck with kisses, his hand drifting up her side.

He smirked as he brushed against her breasts and she let out a high-pitched whine. He smirked and rid himself of the tie with one hand. She snarled and attacked his shirt. IF she was going to be bared to him, he was damn well going to be the same for her.

She knew he had no intention of giving her any control. She didn't care, she was going to take it. "Off with it." She hissed.

His dark chuckle only made her more feral. She kissed him again, biting his lip. Hard enough that she felt the slight metallic taste of blood. She smirked as he growled. " _Ní raibh tú ag smaoineamh i ndáiríre gur mhaith liom a thabhairt duit go léir an chumhacht, rinne tú?(3)"_ she purred.

She laughed when he attacked her neck again, though he stopped, as he threw her on the bed.

She hadn't even realized that they'd made it to the room, and she didn't have time to marvel at that. He was on her in seconds, her hands held above her head by one of his own, his glinting silver eyes bored into hers.

"You really think it's a good idea to antagonize me, now, _kochanie(4)_?" he snarled. She smirked up at him, green eyes smoldering.

"Damn straight. Ye've been a pain in my arse fer years, _Drilovski_." She snarked back. "it's the _perfect_ time to antagonize ye, it is."

He attacked her lips again, as his hands streaked down. The time for talk had long since passed. He was taking what was his. "You on the pill?" he whispered the question, and felt, rather than saw her nod. Good, he thought. Neither of them were ready for that…

When he had finally got her undressed, he looked down at her, the pale moonlight making her skin look silvery-pale. " _Krasyva vidʹma_ …(5)" he breathed. She smirked and brought his head down for another kiss. His hands ghosted down her sides, her belly, her hips… he cupped her and she broke the kiss to groan. He smirked as he caressed her, her shriek of pleasure filled the room as he brought her up and over the peak.

He kissed every inch of her skin as she lay there, too weak from her first ever climax to do anything, and then his lips made the same journey as his hands. She moaned, and then screamed again, shock shooting through her nerves

"P-Patton!" her face, already flushed bloomed the same shade as her hair as he licked her. NO one had ever touched her like this…. He chuckled against her, and the laughter shot her over the edge again. She cried out once more, and as she was coming down from yet another high, he stabbed his tongue in her.

She couldn't breathe for the pleasure that he was torturing her with, and he shot her up again.

She was trebmling now, he noted with a wicked grin, too weak to even scream. He crawled over her, and positioned himself at her enterance. "Ready?" his voice was hoarse. She nodded.

He pushed himself in. She wailed as the pain took her by surprise. Though it was nowhere near as bad as some of the injuries that she had sustained from her work in the TND and KND, it still stung… and he was bigger than she thought…

He wrapped his arms around her and hushed her, a hand tangling in her hair as he rubbed her back.

Then, he flipped them over. She gasped again, when his cock slid deeper in. "Patton, what…?" she gasped. He smirked as he lifted himself (and her) into sitting position. She was trembling, still.

"move on me, _Moya prekrasna bozhevilʹna(6)_." He whispered.

She wimpered, moving her hands to her chest, and brought herself up. She gasped as the sensations ripped through her. This thing was a hell of a lot bigger than his tongue… or his fingers." She shuddered, but his goading grin made her slide back down.

Her breath caught in her throat and she let out a pitiful moan. His hands standing out like gold dust against her moon pale skin- gripped her hips as he helped her repeat the action. He leaned forward. "do it again, Fan-Fan…" he whispered in her ear.

She did it again. And again… and her movements became a bit jerky as she tried to go faster. He watched as her chest bounced with her movements. He smirked and drew his tongue over one of the pale pink nipples. She gasped… he sucked at it, bringing one of his hands up to her other breast to caress and play.

The gasps, goanes, squeaks and little screams that she made in response where music to his ears. He tugged harder at a nipple, and she let out a long, keening wine, moving even more sporadically on him.

She couldn't control it anymore, and she wailed with another release, collapsing on his chest, not able to do any more. He dragged her underneath him, and moved inside of her himself, going just a bit harder, just a bit _faster_ than she had… until he felt himself start trembling as well. He let out a groan as he let go, spilling himself inside of her.

 ** _XXXXX- END OF LEMON PUDDING -XXXXXX_**

* * *

She was still shaking. And he pulled her close. She put her own arms around his neck, burying her head in his chest.

He finally had what he wanted, she thought dully, as the afterglow of sex had finally left her veins. She found herself dreading the morning…. When she knew that she'd wake alone…

But then, she thought, she'd wanted this, too…. For longer than he had. The difference was… he'd be able to move on…

And she never would.

* * *

 _ **OOOOOKKKKAAAAYYYYY THEN… err… wow… I am honestly not sure how I wrote that…. I… umm…. Well, R &R if you liked it. I gotta be honest, here, my face is pretty red right now. I'm going to hell for this. There's a special place for me there…. Right next to the people who steal candy from babies….**_

 _ **Here are your translations:**_

 _ **(1) Russian: My god, you are beautiful**_

 _ **(2) Irish: I am beginning to think that resisting you is a lost cause**_

 _ **(3) Irish: you didn't really think I'd give you all the power, did you?**_

 _ **(4) Polish: sweetheart, honey**_

 _ **(5) Ukrainian: Beautiful witch**_

 _ **(6) Ukrainian: my beautiful lunatic**_

 _ **Stay tuned for the next chapter… where I may or may not finally finish this one off….**_


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